Affairs of the Heart
by Kivalle
Summary: Femmeslash, don't like, don't read. Fleurmione fic. When the TWT comes to Hogwarts, something blooms between the Beauxbatons champion and a certain brunette know-it-all..rating may go up in later chapters
1. First Attraction

AN: You'll have to forgive me; it's been a while (and by that, I mean like years) since I've read HP and the Goblet of Fire. Or any of them for that matter. And I have yet to read 6 and 7, so any problems with the canon storyline is entirely and totally unintentional, but let's just say they're planned anyway. Also, if anyone would wish to beta the rest of this fic for me, let me know.

Disclaimer: The characters, settings, blah blah all belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling and her many lawyers. No infringement is planned. The only thing I own is the ridiculous re-telling of the fourth book in a highly Fleurmione-oriented way. Enjoy.

* * *

The Great Hall was full of the usual excited chatter on the first day of school at Hogwarts. For Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley, their Fourth year promised to be a challenging one. The three sat at the Gryffindor table with Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister by a year, discussing the upcoming classes and teachers and what they forgot to tell each other at the Quidditch World Cup.

The chatter changed quickly to a hushed silence when Headmaster Dumbledore stood up at the teachers' table on the other side of the hall. He smiled gratefully at the assemblage of students before speaking.

"On behalf of all the teachers and other staff, I wish to welcome you all to what promises to be another wonderful year at Hogwarts. I have a special announcement to make regarding everyone present, as well as a number who shall be arriving shortly."

This set the entire hall all abuzz once more. It looked like all the years, from Firsts to Sevenths, were present. The teachers were all there too, so who was Dumbledore talking about?

He held up his hands for silence and resumed when it was so.

"I am pleased to announce that Hogwarts has been chosen to be the host school for the Triwizard Tournament. The Tournament is a series of three tasks where one student, a Sixth or Seventh year, represents their school. There is an age restriction due to the fact that it is a dangerous competition. In past Tournaments, Champions _have_ died." A look passed through the students that was a cross between excitement and fear.

"The Champion is rewarded points for each task completed, based on their time compared to the other Champions. At the end of the Third Task, the Champion with the most collected points wins. It is a friendly and good-natured competition between the schools of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. I trust you will all be polite and welcoming to our guests when they arrive as well as during their stay throughout the year. They shall be arriving shortly, and then we will begin the start of the year feast."

He leveled a steady gaze at the students before he turned and resumed his seat at the center of the teachers' table.

The Great Hall filled with even more noises as this new information sank in. At the Gryffindor table, Ron started talking about what he knew of the two schools.

"Durmstrang is an all-boys school, and Beauxbatons is an all-girls school from somewhere in France."

Hermione was half listening, but Ron's mention of France made her remember the time she spent in Paris over the summer. She had several happy memories from the country.

"And how do you know this?" asked a very curious Harry. "My dad works for the Ministry, remember? Besides, it's not like they're hidden or private schools or anything."

From there the discussion turned to whether they'd have any chances with the girls from Beauxbatons. Hermione rolled her eyes at them and started a conversation with Ginny about the boys of Durmstrang. Conversations similar to the ones they were having were being held all over the Great Hall with varying degrees of seriousness.

The conversations stopped abruptly as the doors to the Great Hall burst open to reveal a monstrously tall woman in a red coat with feathers at the neck and wrists standing behind them looking out into the Hall. She walked in and strode towards the teachers' table where Dumbledore was standing, a smile on his face.

"Ah, bonjour, Madame Maxime. It is good to see you again. Students, I present Madame Maxime, headmistress of Beauxbatons School, and her students, our welcome guests."

Outside the door, two lines of girls wearing pale blue traveling dresses had formed and began walking into the Hall. They took ten steps, gave a musical sigh and bowed to the right side of the Hall, butterflies the color of their dresses floating up from them as they did so. They took ten more steps and did the same to the left side. They then continued to the head of the Hall, where they branched off to either side of their headmistress through a series of spins and sighs.

Dumbledore started speaking about how wonderful it was to have them and how honored Hogwarts was, but for once Hermione wasn't listening. She was too busy being captivated by a tall, slender, blonde-haired Beauxbaton a little to Madame Maxime's left. From where Hermione was sitting, she cold see that her tantalizing center of attention had piercing eyes of the truest shade of blue.

The young witch was instantly enamored with the older witch who was looking about with am air of casual disinterest. Hermione's eyes were glued to the French beauty with an almost hungry look in them. It was only when the focus of her attention looked at her, met her gaze with cool blue, and raised her eyebrows in surprise did Hermione realize what was going on and avert her gaze to elsewhere.

Luckily for her, it was a moment later that the students from Durmstrang arrived and arrested the attention of the Hall. She shut her eyes for a minute and realized that she had stopped breathing, and that her heart was going a mile a minute. She didn't even hear Ron's excited exclamation over one of the Durmstrang boys who was apparently Viktor Krum.

At the same time, the blonde Beauxbaton was having similar problems. She had been taking in her surroundings casually, realizing how boring this whole affair would prove itself to be. It was when she locked eyes with the brunette heart stopper that had been staring at her did her heart respond by beating a bit faster and her breathing quicken a pace.

_Well,_ she mused, _this isn't going to be quite as boring as I imagined…_


	2. Initial Denial

Hermione Granger's first day of her Fourth year at Hogwarts wasn't going exactly as she had planned. She had tossed and turned almost all night because of a blonde witch that continued to pop into her head. That in and of itself was annoying; Hermione was stubbornly arguing with herself that she _was not gay._

…

Was she?

No. Of course not.

It was ridiculous for her to be confused over this. The matter was closed and done. Rumors were floating around that the blonde bombshell was part Veela. That would explain the sudden breathlessness she felt when gazing at the Beauxbaton, as well as the erratic heartbeat.

There was just one problem.

Everyone else affected by her crush- no, her _topic of interest_, she mentally corrected- had been reduced to a mumbling heap of idiot. Hermione was fully aware of the bewitching woman in front of her.

The fact that the Beauxbaton had looked directly at her was another thing. The brunette witch felt shivers running up and down her spine just remembering the look she had been given.

Her thoughts about her fellow witch didn't stop when she finally fell into a fitful sleep. She dreamed, and while she didn't remember it exactly, she knew two things: one, the blonde Beauxbaton had been in it. Two, she had woken up _aroused._

…Dammit.

Not only had she woken up enflamed in a heat that centered around her inner thighs, she had woken up late for class. Her first class of the day was Potions with Snape, no less. Twenty points from Gryffindor for being late, as well as an additional twenty after Draco had made a snarky comment and Ron, as usual, responded in kind without thinking first.

This left Hermione in a rather bad mood for the rest of the day, which passed in the slowest crawl she had ever been witness to. Her class with Professor McGonagall ran over, so she had to literally run to get to her Charms class with Professor Flitwick. She raced through the crowded halls of her school, not really looking where she was going until she bumped into someone, dropping the pairs' books on the floor.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I-"

Well, not just _someone_.

Brown eyes took in soft blue robes, straight platinum hair, and finally-_those eyes_.

She felt her heart stop for a very long moment where the two were on the ground, mesmerized, lost in each others' gaze. It was when her heart started to beat again did Hermione remember that silly necessity known as breathing.

In an embarrassed instant she was on her knees, picking up books hurriedly as blood rushed to heat her cheeks. She heard and felt more than saw the Beauxbaton from her dreams stand up elegantly before bending down to pick up her books.

"_Excusez-moi, mademoiselle_, you are not by any chance 'ermione Granger, are you? Ze friend of 'arry Potter?"

Hermione lifted her face to see the smiling face of the bombshell not a foot from her own, and she gulped.

"I-I am. Hermione, that is." Surely it sounded as stupid to the beauty as it did to her own ears. She smacked herself mentally as she stood.

"Ah, I thought so. I 'ave 'eard so much about you. I am Fleur Delacour." Fleur smiled that dazzling smile again, and Hermione's stomach did a somersault.

"P-pleased to meet you." Well, she was sure full of smart things to say all of a sudden.

"Ze pleasure is all mine." Fleur said in a silky smooth voice that made it sound like she meant it. "I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to Monsieur Flitwick's classroom, _s'il vous pla__ît_?"

Time resumed its normal pace as she remembered her being late to class. She realized somewhere in the back of her head that the hallway was noticeably emptier than it had been what seemed like ages ago.

"Yes, of course. I'm going there myself. We could go together." There, now she had herself under some semblance of control.

"Ah, _bonne_. _Allons-y_!"

Hermione had recently vacationed in France, so she basically understood what Fleur had said. "Uh, oui, let's go." She gave her head an imperceptible shake to clear it.

The pair started off together. Two hearts raced secretly in their chests, and both told themselves it was the run up two flights of stairs that was the reason- _not_ the girl they were with.

During the class that they were mercifully somehow on time for, the girls had some trouble keeping their eyes off one another. They were sitting across the room from each other. Once every two minutes they would risk a glance across the room. When they looked at the same time, which happened once or twice, their eyes locked for a moment and Hermione would feel her face start to heat, causing her to look away quickly.

She had never been this distracted in a class before.

Fleur was grateful that she had learned from a very early age to keep her gaze steady. If it weren't for that, she would've crumbled to pieces the first time they caught each other in the act of staring. She smiled inwardly to herself-it seemed she wasn't the only one affected by the heat simmering between them.

And there _was_ heat. It wasn't quite to the point of boiling over, but with any luck Fleur would find a way to let it. Just not yet-she wouldn't want to scare the plain, boring, mesmerizing witch sitting so close and yet so far away from her.

Though just why Hermione made her blood boil, Fleur wasn't sure. She was exactly that-plain, boring, bookish, with nothing that stood out or made one stand up and take notice.

Unlike her.

It seemed that everything about the Beauxbaton made people stop and stare. Yes, there was an advantage to having people willing to do anything for you just because of how you looked, but it grew very annoying very quickly. And it was _everyone_ who did this to her, save her few good friends and family.

And _her._

The first time Hermione had laid eyes on her it was electrifying. But unlike everyone else, after the initial shock wore off, Hermione affixed a cool and detached manner every time they came into contact before their little tumble. When they passed in the hall, Fleur would watch out of the corner of her eye as the brunette witch either ignored her existence completely or spared only the slightest glance her way.

Which made Fleur's blood stir in ways it never had before.

This would be a challenge. A fun challenge. Never mind the Tournament on the horizon-Fleur had a heart to win.

And it seemed that fate was more than willing to help. Towards the end of the class, Professor Flitwick announced the first major assignment of the year-a paper on a charm of the students choosing, detailing who discovered it and when, it's uses, drawbacks, etc.

"And since this year is all about creating inter-school relations, you will have to choose a partner from a different school. Since the Beauxbatons are our guests, they will get to choose their partners from Hogwarts first."

The professor started going in alphabetical order through the Beauxbaton roster. As each name was called, the pulse racing through Hermione kept speeding up. Her stomach twisted itself into tight little knots. Sweat broke out on her brow. Her breathing kept becoming shorter and shorter until finally…

"Fleur Delacour. Who would you like to work with, _ma chere?" Professor Flitwick chuckled at his ingenious addition of her native tongue. _

_It seemed that everyone in the room from Hogwarts leaned forward in anticipation, including those who already had partners. The only one who acted disinterested and even downright bored with the whole thing was Hermione._

_Fleur ignored all the other students and focused entirely on Hermione for a breathless moment before turning to the professor with a satisfied smirk on her face._

"_I wish to work with…"_

_Hermione felt like her heart would explode with all the adrenaline and fear before much longer. She wasn't sure, but she thought she might've stopped breathing._

" '_ermione Granger."_


	3. Almost

AN: Hope you're all enjoying the story. Thanks go out to my beta, Yoshiyuki Ly. The usual apply: I don't own anything but this story.

* * *

With one last glance at the mirror, Fleur gave herself a knowing smirk before leaving her room in the Beauxbatons carriage. She was one her way to the library to work with Hermione on their Charms essay. It was a pleasing thought-they would be more or less alone, close together, and they would have to speak to one another. It was the perfect opportunity to open things up between the two of them.

To suggest that there was nothing between them would have been an outright lie. It seemed to Fleur that the air fairly sizzled when they regarded each other. Hermione may be in denial about it, but the French teen was more than willing to open her eyes to the possibilities before them.

She turned a corner in one of the many hallways when an odd thought struck her: Should she feel guilty for what she was about to do, which was essentially seducing a girl two years her junior?

Probably. Did she?

…

No.

It was then that she remembered a saying she had heard somewhere before.

"Seduction is not forcing someone to do something they do not want to do-it is merely giving them the opportunity to act on their desires."

With the most charming smile in her arsenal in place on her face, she entered the Hogwarts library. After politely asking where the section on charms was, she set off again, ready to kill with her smile. However, when she reached her destination, Fleur's smile drifted downwards into a frown.

Hermione wasn't there yet.

Puzzled by the younger girl's absence, Fleur began to browse the shelves. She made a quick selection and grabbed a book that looked interesting, sat in one of the chairs at the desk, and waited.

--

Hermione had no idea that facing Fleur would be _this_ hard. For some reason, she couldn't tear herself away from either her dormitory mirror or her hairbrush. Every time she thought she had her hair tame enough to go down and face Fleur, another strand would find a way to make itself stand out in a ridiculous fashion.

But why did it even matter? They were working together on a paper, not going on a…

Hermione swallowed hard. That was nothing but a silly, preposterous schoolboy notion. Fleur was straight and so was she.

…

Right?

She closed her eyes and shook her head in an attempt to clear it. Of course she was. Both of them were. But the implications were not lost on her: they'd be alone in the library. Anyone in Fleur's presence for an extended period of time in close quarters was bound to come out of it feeling a little loopy. It would happen to any partner she could've chosen from Hogwarts.

Reassured, she opened her eyes and glanced at a clock.

_Crap!_ She was late for their da-meeting. Study session. Yeah.

The brunette grabbed her parchments, quills, and books before rushing out of her dormitory at near-breakneck speeds, her appearance totally forgotten. She barely remembered her race through the halls at all, slowing down only when she reached the home stretch before the library doors. She took a moment to lean against a wall to catch her breath and compose herself before going inside.

The library wasn't very full, she noticed. Hopefully she wasn't so late that Fleur had come and gone after waiting a long time. Luckily for her-or perhaps not- the girl from her dreams was sitting in the charms section reading a book.

Her bewitching partner looked up as Hermione approached. She was shaken on the inside by just how hypnotizing the French girl was. As she lifted her head, she revealed an enticing area of neck that, to Hermione, practically begged to be kissed. Her blue cap was sitting slightly askew on her head, shading the right half of her face. Her left eye, which escaped the shade, pierced right through the brunette with its stunning pureness. Her lips were raised slightly at the corners.

"Ah, so you 'ave decided to join me, _oui_? I was worried you 'ad forgotten, or worse, decided not to come at all."

By some miracle, Hermione remembered how to speak. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell the blonde the truth. "_I'm late because I was worried about how I looked for you. Do these robes make my butt look big?"_

Yeah, _that_ would go over well.

"Sorry I'm late. I was watching Harry practice Quidditch and lost track of time." Therem a perfectly reasonable lie.

Fleur sat there quietly amused. She was a good liar. There was just one slight problem. In order for Fleur to get to the castle, she had to walk past the Quidditch pitch. If anyone was practicing, she would've seen them. The skies were clear today, both of clouds and Quidditch players.

However, she let it slide. Judging by the way she was panting and by how flushed her cheeks were, she had probably run down several flights of steps. Besides, the girl was very arousing when she was flustered and out of breath.

Fleur vowed to herself then and there that someday soon she would be the reason Hermione was in that state. Until then, all she could do was bite the inside of her cheek and ignore the burning heat in between her thighs.

--

Some hours later, the pair were still at it in the library. It had grown dark and the lamps had lit themselves, casting a lazy, hazy glow around them. They were sitting together-_close_ together. Had they wanted to, they would have noticed that their breathing was in sync. The rest of the library was quiet- everyone else had either left or was working alone. They were reading the same chapter in the same book and were almost done with it.

Fleur finished first and, instead of sitting back and waiting for Hermione to finish so they could discuss that particular charm, only her eyes moved. She gazed in appreciation at the girl whose face was not even a foot from her own. The brunette's eyes were slightly squinted as she focused entirely on the text in front of her. Her mouth was curved into an adorable frown of concentration. When she finished, she brought her face up to Fleur's, keeping them the same distance apart.

She noticed Fleur just…looking at her. She cocked her head questioningly as her heart sped up in her chest. Pure blue eyes had her brown eyes locked in place as time seemed to slow down around them.

Fleur, a small smile on her face, began to lean in. Her mind was screaming, _No! Go slower, don't scare her off!_ But she ignored the rational part of her brain and gave in to the part telling her that the timing was perfect.

Hermione realized what was about to happen with a start. Fleur Delacour was just inches away from kissing her…and the gap was closing quickly.

Brown eyes wide with shock began to close in anticipation…

Two sets of lips were slightly parted, only inches away from entwining themselves in a heated embrace…

Hearts pounded as flares lit up between two pairs of thighs…

And finally…

"Fleur! I thought I might-oh!"

A miniature version of Fleur had stepped into the row of shelves the pair was occupying and was looking rather embarrassed. "I was told I could find you in here. The Champions are going to be announced soon. I thought you might want to come, but if you're busy…" she trailed off awkwardly.

The pair had separated quickly when the smaller Fleur walked in on them.

"Yes, Gabrielle, I'll be coming in a moment. Let me gather my things." The young blonde nodded, looked uncertainly between the two, turned, and walked away.

"Your sister?" Hermione asked when the girl was gone. Fleur was quickly gathering the books she would need in the coming weeks.

"Yes. Her name is Gabrielle."

"She looks like you." Hermione had begun to collect her things too, at a slower pace.

"She does, doesn't she?" A barely audible sigh escaped her lips. "Are you coming as well?"

Their eyes met again. "Yes, but you go on, I'll be there in a second. I have some things to sort out." She indicated her books and quills, but that wasn't all she was referring to.

Her blonde head bowed in a nod of understanding. Then she was gone.

Hermione sank back down into the chair Fleur had just vacated. It was still warm from the older girl's body heat. The brunette gazed up at the ceiling, dismay hardly concealed in her eyes.

_Fleur…_

The blonde vixen-had she really been just about to kiss her? It seemed so unreal, like a dream. A dream that had almost come true.

The rational part of her brain was glad they didn't get the chance to go through with it. It told her that she _was_ affected by the Veela in Fleur, and that she was just confused.

…

Would she have had the sense to make the bombshell stop? Her rational self said yes.

But in her innermost heart, she knew that she would not have been able to say 'stop.'

And deep down, she knew that that was exactly what she wanted.


	4. The Champions

Fleur Isabelle Delacour was one very frustrated French teenager. Frustrated at herself for almost losing control. To her memory and embarrassment, she had never once tried to kiss someone that she wasn't sure that they wanted to be kissed. Frustrated at Hermione for being so damn adorable. Honestly, in her opinion, nobody had a right to be half as adorable as she was. Frustrated at Gabrielle for ruining the moment that was just within her reach. Although, she admitted, it wasn't the girls fault that she had terrible timing. Besides, it was probably for the best that they hadn't kissed.

But that didn't mean her miniature self had escaped her wrath.

The girl in question was waiting just outside the library doors trying to sort out what she had almost witnessed. It didn't make any sense at all.

Did her sister really just try to kiss that bushy-haired girl?

Gabrielle could see nothing attractive in her. Plus, _bonjour, _the other girl was a_ girl_. Didn't that send warning signs flashing? She thought herself to be fairly worldly at eight years old, but the concept of girl-dating-girl was just a touch above her head.

Her musings were cut short when her sister exited the library. There was an unreadable expression on her face, but her eyes betrayed a hint of something dangerous.

Anger.

Fleur didn't even so much as glance at her little sister, just walked past and kept going. Gabrielle fell in step behind her silently. The halls were mostly vacant, and the silence between the sisters was intimidating-at least, it was to the younger of the two. Frustration rolled off of Fleur in almost every move she made. Gabrielle was actually afraid of her sister, which was rare, but soon the silence became too much for her to handle.

"Fleur?"

"Oui?" The older girl didn't pause to look back at her, but kept moving.

"What…" She swallowed nervously. "What did I interrupt in there?"

Fleur knew this was coming and sighed. "You didn't interrupt anyzing, _ma chere_. Don't worry about it."

Gabrielle let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. "Oh. Good." They walked in silence a little farther before she asked in their native tongue, "You do know that she's a _girl, _right?"

Her sister didn't respond, as they had just reached the Great Hall. Somehow everyone from all three schools managed to situate themselves comfortably inside. The pair set off to join the largest group of blue-clad Beauxbatons, a small smile gracing Fleur's face.

--

Hermione really wasn't sure what to think. She had strong urges to give into two very different courses of action-something she had never faced before. Her first impulse was to deny that anything had happened. It was a trick of the light, she was tired and her brain was fried, Fleur was leaning in to pick up something she'd dropped-any excuse to make light of the situation. Her second option was the very frightening and exciting one.

Fleur really _had_ been about to kiss her.

She shook her head and decided not to think about it. She should go to the Great Hall and see who would compete in the Tournament. The trip took forever and not nearly long enough. In the already packed hall, she had some trouble finding Harry and Ron. Once she joined them she forced herself to pay attention to her friends, lest her eyes wander over to…

_Dammit._

…the Beauxbatons. Well, one Beauxbaton in particular. And she had been looking at Hermione when the brunette spied her from across the room.

Their eyes had met.

Neither was willing to look away first. Another blue-clad girl said something to Fleur, but their eyes stayed locked. From what Hermione saw, Fleur didn't look at the girl as she answered, and then laughed at the girl's reply. Her expression screamed amusement, though at what, Hermione wasn't sure.

"…right, Hermione?" She blinked, but Ron's voice didn't register anything else.

"Hermione?" Harry waved a hand in front of her face. She looked at him in surprise. Inside, she was glad they had broken the staring match for her.

"What?"

"We were talking about how whoever is chosen for Hogwarts is going to be a Gryffindor and that it would've been awesome if it could've been one of us."

"Oh yeah, that would've been great." She shook her head a little to clear it.

Why was she this affected by Fleur? She wasn't gay.

"What were you looking at, anyway?"

Hermione's heart did a little flip as she looked back towards Fleur, who was suddenly nowhere to be found. She frantically searched the area with her eyes, her heart speeding up. She found her a moment later, speaking to someone from Durmstrang. She felt something strange. Relief. "Hm? Oh, nothing."

Ron was going to say that it didn't bloody look like nothing to him, but Dumbledore had stepped into the center of the room, next to the Goblet. The room quieted instantly. Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff stood a few yards behind him.

"I believe everyone is here. The Goblet is just about ready to-ah."

The Goblet's flame changed from blue to red and sparks began to shoot out of it. A burnt piece of parchment shot out and fluttered, smoking, into Dumbledore's hand. The flame changed back from red to blue.

"The Champion from Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!" The crowd from Durmstrang cheered rather loudly as Viktor stood and strode over to his headmaster, a smug grin on his face. Together they went into the room next to the teachers' table.

The Goblet changed color again, and the cheering quieted as another burnt parchment flew out. Dumbledore caught it again.

"The Champion from Beauxbatons is," Hermione's breath caught but she didn't know why. As far as she knew, Fleur had never- "Fleur Delacour!" -entered her name in the Goblet.

A cheer rang out from all the blue-clad girls in the room as the bewitching blonde stood and smiled, walking over to her headmistress. The two walked into the back room as the Goblet changed for the third time.

Hermione didn't hear anything of what happened next. She had shut her eyes and was shaking her head, chanting _no, no, no, no…_ All she could hear was that and the rushing of blood through her veins at an unhealthy pace.

Why did it matter to her that Fleur risk her life for glory? Of what consequence was it to her? Why was her heart clenching so tightly, while her insides rolled themselves around into painful knots again and again?

Why did she _care_?

Totally engrossed in her irritating musings, she missed both the cheers for Cedric and the stunned silence for Harry.

Ron shaking her shoulders brought her back into the real world just in time to see Harry disappear into where Fleur had just gone into. Looking at that door brought a whole slew of unfamiliar emotions into her heart, the foremost of them being fear.

She was afraid for the other girl.

People had _died_ in this Tournament.

With all the schools crammed into one room, she suddenly felt suffocated. She had to get out.

Now.

She stood and made her way as quickly as possible through the sea of students. Once she was free of the crowds she fast-walked to the doors leading to the school, and from there she ran until she reached the Gryffindor common room. She stood in the middle of the empty room staring at the fire.

She had no idea what to do with herself now.

Didn't Fleur know what kind of trouble she was getting herself into? Lord only knew what the Tournament's challenges held for the Champions. The last one had been held hundreds of years ago, so the brunette had no idea what to expect. Neither did Fleur, then. She bit her bottom lip as the flames twisted and cracked in the hearth. Her vision turned hot and blurry and she blinked back the oncoming tide of tears.

Hermione went up to the fourth year dormitory and collapsed on her bed after pulling the curtains around her tight. She found herself crying. She cleansed herself of the distress, the frustration; though try as she might, she couldn't get rid of her confusion or the fear clutching so desperately to her insides.

_Why you, Fleur? Why you?_

--

Fleur returned to her room in the Beauxbaton carriage relieved to have some peace and quiet. It had been an exciting and tiresome night. Spending time with Hermione had proved to me magical, pardoning the pun. True, they hadn't really said much unrelated to their work, but they had clicked. Fleur was sure of it.

She just had to prove it to Hermione.

But there was nothing more to be done tonight. She hopped into the bathroom for a quick shower and came out in her nightclothes, blue silk pants that fit loosely and white silk tank top. Gabrielle was sitting on her bed dressed in a similar fashion. Fleur really didn't want to deal with her sister right now.

"What do you want?" She asked in their native tongue, stopping halfway to her bed and planting her hands on her hips.

"We never finished out conversation earlier." She stated, gazing frankly at her sister. "You do know she is a girl?"

Fleur sighed and rubbed her temples, suddenly very tired. "Yes, I know."

"Oh." She thought a minute. "Why?"

Her older sister shook her head and crossed over to her dresser where she began to brush her hair. "Why what?"

Gabrielle shifted to face her. "Why her? Why another girl?" Fleur's choice of conquests had left her sister a little more than confused.

She met Gabrielle's eyes in the mirror, then looked away. She stopped brushing her hair. "It's complicated."

"Try me."

Fleur turned and eyed the younger girl, debating what to tell her. She was only eight, after all. "You know that when someone with Veela blood turns fourteen, their thrall starts to affect others?" Gabrielle nodded. "Well, she is…immune to me." Her sister's eyes widened.

"But the only people that's supposed to happen to are-"

"Exactly."

The younger blonde thought a minute, letting the implications roll around in her brain. "But she's a girl. What are you going to do about that?" She wasn't sure about her sister's choice, or even if she approved.

"Accept it and not tell papa or _maman, _for starters." There was a barely concealed threat in her tone.

"Oh." Gabrielle stood and moved to hug her big sister. "Well, good luck."

Fleur smiled at her sister's hair as they embraced. "Thank you."

They released each other and Gabrielle went to the door. "Goodnight." And was gone.

Fleur doubted it would be a good night. Gabrielle was right, after all.

What _was_ she going to do about that infuriatingly enticing Hermione Granger?

Fleur had hoped that her dreams would tell her some way, or give her some idea, but all they did was tease her and leave her full of burning desire.

--

AN: Hope you're all enjoying it. I'm enjoying writing it and reading the reviews I get, which leads me to my next point (and I'll be shameless), please review, people! Really, how am I supposed to know how good a job I'm doing if you don't tell me? Please and thank you.


	5. My Dreams are Teasing Me Again

AN: Thanks to all who reviewed and keep doing so. They also go out to my Yoshiyuki Ly for being a great beta and helping with my first risque scene. Enjoy

_--_

_Hermione was sitting alone in a plush leather chair in one of the back corners of the library with her head bent over a book. The library was deserted of everyone, including Madam Pince, the school librarian. She heard the door open and close and looked up. Standing right in front of her was Fleur, an unreadable expression on her face. She cocked her head to the side in curiosity._

"_Fleur, what are you-"_

_She was cut off by the softest lips she had ever felt pressing themselves against her own, and her eyes widened with shock. This time, Gabrielle wasn't there to interrupt. The lips pressed themselves into her harder and she felt a hand rest itself on her right shoulder while another found its way to her hip. She closed her eyes and leaned into the embrace as Fleur crawled on top of her into a kneeling position. Their lips meshed into one until breathing became a necessity._

"_Fleur…I don't…what's going on?" she panted. A slim finger landed on her swollen lips, silencing her. Her brown eyes searched Fleur's blue ones, but all she could see was the hunger and lust inside them. She shut her eyes as adrenaline rushed through her blood, igniting her in places she never even knew existed._

"_Shhh, darling, let your body do ze talking…"_

"_But, the library…people will-" She opened her eyes to see Fleur giving her a look full of amusement._

"'_Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze,' _oui?_" She giggled mischievously and leaned in to deliver more of Hermione's sweet torture._

_Hermione found that her brain had effectively turned into mush, but it didn't matter-Fleur was blazing a trail of hot kisses along her jaw line. Everywhere the blonde's lips touched seared with heat. The brunette's breathing was coming shorter and faster; it stopped altogether when the blonde bit down none too gently on Hermione's earlobe and then gently tugged at it. Fleur was rewarded with a low, throaty noise escaping the younger witch, whose hands snaked their way onto the blonde's curvy hips. Fleur's skin tingled under the contact._

_Fleur's hands were doing some exploring of their own; they were roaming up and down Hermione's body as hungrily as her mouth was biting, licking, sucking on her willing victim's neck. More noises escaped the brunette, caused by Fleur's wicked, wicked hands, which did nothing but electrify the French girl's senses into a frenzy of pleasure._

_The blonde's hands found something to play with- Hermione's shirt and tie. Somehow she had lost her robes, and she was left in her jeans and a baby-blue button down top._

"_Mmm, those aren't dress code, are they?" Fleur whispered seductively in her ear. "Guess I'll just 'ave to take those off myself…"_

_Her hands already had the Gryffindor-colored tie thrown off to the side and was busy undoing the top buttons of her shirt until the top of her breasts were exposed to the hazy glow of the lamps. They traced Hermione's collarbone almost reverently before removing themselves to her sides and were replaced with Fleur's mouth kissing her collarbone, the pulse point in her neck, and any exposed piece of flesh she could get her lips on._

_Hermione arched her back and moaned loudly, drawing an appreciative purr from the girl on top of her._

"_I like it when you do that, _ma chere…_let's see if I can make you do it again…" And she bit down in a sensitive area of Hermione's smooth, pale skin, eliciting another moan from the brunette as she licked the now-pinkish area. Fleur shuddered and stopped where she was, watching the girl under her pant slightly until she opened her brown eyes and allowed them to be captivated by Fleur's vividly blue ones._

"Ma chere," _she whispered in a husky voice, "let's find out what makes you scream, _oui_?" She captured Hermione's lips with her own as her hands began to roam again. One cupped the brunette's firm, round behind while the other pressed itself onto her stomach, where it slowly tickled and teased its way lower, lower, and lower still until…_

_Hermione…Hermione…_wake up, Hermione…

She woke with a start, a huge, loopy grin on her face, utterly confused as to where she was. She was greeted with sunlight drifting through the top of her bed onto the curtains drawn around her.

_Not the library, then…_

She was in her dormitory, she realized, and decidedly un-ravished by a certain blonde girl, though (much to her embarrassment) her breasts ached with want and she was quite wet where Fleur had just…

_No,_ she thought, _she never…_

It had been a dream.

An incredibly arousing dream, but a dream nonetheless.

She threw back the covers and her bed curtains, stood, and stretched. There was no way for her to take care of her dreams aftereffects now-other fourth year girls were still in the dormitory either getting ready for the day or waiting for their friends. She went into the bathroom with her things and took a quick shower before heading down to breakfast.

Harry and Ron were already there when she entered the Great Hall. A cursory glance around the hall revealed that Fleur was nowhere to be found. It was both good and bad-she wasn't sure what would happen after the night she had. She sat on Harry's right side, with Ron on his left. After the usual pleasantries, Ron asked Harry, "So do you know what the first task is yet?"

Harry took a bite of toast and shook his head. "Not a clue."

"That's no good, the task is in two days."

"You think I don't know that, Ron?" he snapped. "If I knew, I'd tell you."

Ron turned slightly pink in embarrassment and shoved some eggs into his mouth. "Right, forry mate. Didn't mean to get our precious Champion upset, I forgot it was against the rules."

Harry shot Ron an angry look. "Oh come off it already. You know I didn't enter myself, so put the jealousy away." He ignored Ron's grumbled reply and turned to Hermione. "How's your Charms essay coming?"

Thoughts of their 'work' at the library popped into her mind. Her eyes stayed glued to her plate-she didn't dare look Harry in the eye lest they give away her dazed state. "Oh, it's coming…"

"Bloody lucky of you to be chosen to be _her_ partner. I mean, look at her, she's a living, breathing goddess." Ron nodded towards the doors. Without thinking, Hermione looked up and her eyes fell immediately on Fleur, who was walking with Gabrielle and a few other Beauxbatons, a dazzling smile lighting up her face as she laughed.

Hermione's heart melted in her chest and a big goofy grin made its way onto her face. Images from her dream found their way into the front of her brain. She knew she was staring but she didn't care. If Harry and Ron were going to do it, then she bloody would too.

…

Wait, what was she _doing?_

She tore her gaze away, a scowl on her face. "Really." She reprimanded herself, ridding her mind of the dream. She grabbed a piece of toast as she stood and marched angrily up the aisle, past Fleur and her friends. She glanced up at the passing girl, the smile still lighting up her features (and the entire room, Hermione silently admitted). Hermione's scowl just deepened and she quickened her pace, looking and staring straight ahead, leaving Fleur leaving a little curious and a lot hurt.

Several flights of steps later she stopped in a deserted hallway and leaned against a wall, falling down it slightly. Her eyes closed and she inhaled a shaky breath, suppressing the urge to let it out in a frustrated moan. _You are not gay,_ she told herself firmly.

…

_But could I be bisexual?_

Could she live with herself like that? She knew she wasn't full-out for girls. Truth be told, she never really considered just _who_ she was attracted to. But now with this whole Fleur situation…

It was too early to be drawing such conclusions, she decided. The best thing for her to do would be to get on with her day and try to forget about the French temptress. If Fleur wanted to bring up the kiss or anything else of a romantic nature, then and only then would they talk about it. She would not be the one to bring it up. With renewed determination, Hermione set off to the common room to grab her things and get on with her day.

--

Fleur had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach ever since Hermione had stormed past her in the Great Hall at breakfast for seemingly no reason at all, other than Fleur's very existence. It was possible that she had had a fight with Harry and the redheaded boy, but the fury in her eyes when they met Fleur's dispelled any notion that that was what happened.

She reached out and took a few sausages from the center of the table with every intention of eating them. All she did was push them around with her fork and stare at them sadly. The Beauxbatons around her were chatting happily, more or less ignoring Fleur's emotional distress.

_Did_ she push Hermione too far with the kiss? Was that it? She knew that she was moving too fast but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

And now she felt terrible.

"Fleur, eat somezing. You are going to need all your strength, what wiz ze task being two days away."

She nodded and took a bite of one of the sausages but didn't really taste it. The same went for the eggs and orange juice she tried to force down. She was surrounded by her friends and never felt lonelier. How could she confide in any of them what she was going through? Only Gabrielle had an inkling about Fleur's true feelings, but she doubted her little sister would understand.

Would Hermione want to switch partners now? Surely dozens of other students would jump at the chance to switch with her. Fleur simply could not allow that to happen.

With the Tournament looming near on the horizon, the last thing she needed was problems with her love life weighing down on her heart and stepping on her concentration. All she had to do was keep Hermione off her mind until the first task was over.

_Easier said than done._


	6. The First Task

Fleur was rather proud of herself. Until it came time for her Charms class, Hermione had popped into her head only ten times. Not the best, but at least she had prevented it from being an every-other-minute affair. It would be impossible now, though, with the other girl sitting across the room from her. Somehow she would manage.

The classroom was almost full when Fleur got there. Hermione was sitting in her seat, head bent over a book, face showing her to be deep in concentration. A smile made its way onto Fleur's pale features as she sat in her own seat, conveniently located directly across from her crush's.

Professor Flitwick called the class to attention and began with the days lesson: protective charms. It was fairly complex since there were so many different types. By the time Professor Flitwick was done explaining what they all protected against and the proper way of casting them, the class only had ten minutes to practice.

"Now, pick a partner and have at it until the bell rings."

Everyone began to move immediately, and chatter soon filled the air as the students chose partners and began to cast protective charms. The door opened and a first year Beauxbaton stepped inside the classroom. Nobody paid her any mind as she spoke quietly to the professor.

Hermione was still sitting, finishing reading the last few paragraphs on one of the more advanced spells. Fleur was making her way across the classroom slowly due to the magical barriers that kept popping up in her way. She had just managed to get to the bottom of the steps leading up to Hermione's seat when she heard the professor calling her name. It was like being shot in the back four feet from the finish line.

"Fleur Delacour? Fleur Dela-oh, there you are. You're needed by your headmistress. This one here says its important." He said, indicating the first year girl standing next to him. She was looking around nervously at the older students. "Go on and see what she wants, my dear. Oh, yes, take your books with you. Your homework" he raised his voice to speak to the entire class, though they paid him little attention, "is to practice the charms we've discussed today." He lowered his voice as Fleur walked past him, books in hand. "Good day, Ms. Delacour." He smiled at her.

She returned the smile but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "_Au revoir_, Monsieur Flitwick." He chuckled happily at her use of French and moved to correct a pair who seemed to be having trouble with one of the charms. She followed the first year to the door but cast one last lingering glance at Hermione. Fleur smirked; she had caught the brunette looking at her, which hadn't happened at all during class. A blush spread over her cheeks as she looked away quickly and began to cast a protective charm. Smirk still firmly in place, she left the room.

The first year, a girl Fleur thought was named Charlotte, led the way to the carriage in a nervous silence. Fleur sighed and asked in French, "What does Madame want?"

Charlotte looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. Apparently it was some great honor to have to lead the Champion of her school to their carriage. "She didn't say."

She fought the urge to sigh again. This 'important' meeting had interrupted any chance she had of asking Hermione what was wrong.

They exited the castle and made their way to the giant blue carriage. At the door she cast a haughty look down at the girl. "I can manage from here, thanks." Honestly, she could've navigated her way through the castle, too. She hadn't minded the girl before but now she was weighing heavily on the blonde's nerves. When she began to scurry back to the castle, Fleur stepped inside and headed straight for Madame Maxime's office. She knocked on the door and entered when she heard the muffled go ahead.

Just about everything in Madame's office was oversized to fit the giant woman. "You wanted to see me, Madame?" Fleur asked as she sat in one of the normal-sized chairs in front of the huge desk behind which Madame was sitting.

"Yes, I have good news. The first task is to be dragons!" she replied excitedly in French.

Fleur was at a loss as to how 'dragons' and 'good news' went together in this context but didn't comment. Instead she asked, "So the first task is to kill a dragon?"

The giant woman looked genuinely startled. "Kill? Oh, no, my dear. You have to do something involving an egg its protecting or some such nonsense." She waved her hand to show the unimportance of not killing the beast. "Now, about your strategy…" Madame Maxime kept talking, but Fleur was only half listening.

Dragons? In two days she'd have to face a dragon? What was she thinking, entering this crazed Tournament?

Oh, yeah. It had something to do with impressing a certain bushy-haired brunette…

But this was going a bit far. What was she going to do? She had never faced a dragon before. She was a goner.

And she doubted very much that Hermione would enjoy being the girlfriend of the charred remains of a once attractive French girl.

--

_The nerve of that girl!_ fumed Hermione. She had the gall to catch her unaware, and then smirk at her heated reaction. _Oh, how dare she, the little witch…_

The thought suddenly struck her as funny and she had to suppress the urge to laugh. How was is possible? She ought to be furious with the blonde, and here she was unable to keep the grin off her face. She shook her head angrily, trying in vain to bring her anger back. The grin stayed annoyingly in place.

Just what was so attractive, so alluring about the girl? Hermione didn't know, which was one of the cruelest forms of torture she could think of. In a rush her anger returned. _How_ dare _she torture me like this?_ Hermione thought, eyes narrowing. _If I never see her again, it'll be far, far too soon._

The brunette had no idea how soon she would come to regret that thought.

--

Fleur had less than 48 hours to devise a strategy and practice the spells she would need for the first task. When she wasn't in class, eating, or sleeping, she was out on the Hogwarts grounds casting spell after spell that she thought could help her tackle a dragon. Madame Maxime kept a fairly close eye on her Champion, making sure she ate and slept plenty. "To keep her health up," she said.

All this practicing meant one thing: she had a decided lack of free time in which to track down her Charms partner for a decent conversation. That was, of course, until the Charms class the day before the task. No opportunities presented themselves during the class itself, but when it was dismissed Fleur took her time putting away her books like Hermione usually did.

Hermione glanced across the room and saw Fleur lagging behind. She sped up her packing and nearly ran down the steps and out the door. Fleur saw this and panicked; she threw her books into a disorganized heap, scooped them up into her arms, and followed.

Her quarry was already halfway down the crowded hall when Fleur emerged from Flitwick's room. Without thinking, she called out, "'ermione!" The girl visibly stiffened and hesitated mid-stride. She turned and their eyes met instantly- both held a small amount of fear in them. Fleur kept moving to close the gap between them; Hermione began walking backwards to keep them apart.

"I-I can't talk now. I've got to help Harry prepare. Maybe some other time…" She was rounding a corner now. Fleur was there a moment later with a reply but she was too late. Hermione had disappeared. She looked around, bewildered. How did she do that?

She didn't have time to contemplate, however. Her friend Claire walked up to her.

"What waz zat about?" she asked curiously. Claire was her oldest friend. They had known each other since they were five, and Fleur felt that she could tell the dark-haired girl almost anything.

"_Rien_," she replied. This was one thing she couldn't tell anyone just yet. "I'll tell you later."

Claire nodded in understanding. "You better get going. Madame will be wanting to see what you've done so far." She had almost forgotten her meeting with Madame Maxime to check her progress. Fleur smiled at her friend.

"Later, then."

--

Hermione woke up the following morning feeling anxious. In just a few hours the four Champions would be facing dragons. She knew because Harry told her after Hagrid had shown them to him. Her free time the day before was all spent helping learn to do a summoning spell properly.

She was so busy focusing on Harry that she had forgotten about Fleur until breakfast, where she was sitting with a dark-haired Beauxbaton. She was dressed in an outfit similar to Harry's- it resembled a muggle tracksuit complete with their last name on the back of their shirt. Harry's was red and gold, whereas Fleur's was blue and white.

Harry and Ron were already there and almost done with their breakfasts. Gryffindors came up and wished Harry good luck every couple of minutes, so their conversation was interrupted quite frequently.

Dumbledore stood and made the announcement that when the Champions were done eating, they were to go out onto the school grounds where they would be escorted to their tent. One by one the Champions finished and made their way out; each time, applause would follow them out the door.

Soon it was time for everyone else to head out to the Tournament arena. Hermione set off with Ron and Ginny. They filed into the stadium seats, and they had a clear view of the rocky terrain inside. On one end there were massive doors where presumably the dragons would be released; on the other there was a small opening for the Champions.

Her heart beating quickly, she made an excuse to get away and found a way out to the Champions tent. She leaned against one of the cloth walls and whispered, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

She found the end of the curtain and pulled it back, revealing her dark-haired friend. The tent had four chairs-one in each corner for the Champions. Cedric was to their left, Viktor to their right, and Fleur was across from them.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him worriedly.

"I've been better." He held his wand tightly in his right hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Viktor looking at her, but she ignored him.

"Just remember what we practiced and stay calm. You'll do fine."

He tried to smile reassuringly but failed. "Easier said than done."

Without thinking she wrapped her arms around him. She was honestly frightened. For herself more than him, she repeated, "You'll do fine." She saw Fleur watching them, frowning. Something dangerously close to hurt lingered in those blue eyes. She let go of Harry and stepped back.

One of the Tournament officials noticed her. "Hey, you, out. This tent is for Champions and their Headmasters only."

She nodded and gave Harry one last smile. As she turned to exit she saw Viktor's face. He was staring at Harry with what looked like jealousy in his eyes, a scowl twisting his mouth. Cedric just looked nervous but was trying to act calm. Fleur was glaring at Krum but glanced at Hermione as she passed. She swore Fleur's face softened for an instant before returning to stare daggers at Krum. She shuddered and tried not to think about the danger Harry and the blonde bombshell were in.

The Triwizard Tournament was about to begin.

--

Hermione made her it back to her seat between Ron and Ginny just after the canon was fired. The huge doors opened and a small jet of fire shot out, followed by a large grayish-blue dragon. The crowd gasped excitedly. They knew this was coming-they had just been told not to worry.

"I think that's the Swedish one…I saw Charlie this morning, he told me the types of dragons they brought for the Tournament. I wonder who's pulled this one?"

He got his answer soon enough; Cedric walked in the arena through the Champions entrance. Cheers filled the air as he spotted the dragon and walked out into the open before it.

A roar shook the air, followed by bright bursts of flame. The Tournament had begun.

--

In a space of fifteen minutes, Cedric managed to avoid being burned to a crisp twelve times. He confounded his dragon just long enough to transfigure a rock into a replica of the egg hidden behind it. He grabbed the rock-egg and made a dash for the real one, missing a trail of fire by a scant few inches.

But he managed to get his prize, and the crowd cheered; the Hufflepuffs in the crowd were the loudest. He left quickly as several wizards, Charlie Weasley included, wrangled the dragon back out through the doors.

"Well, one down, three to go." said the same voice that forewarned the spectators of the dragons.

"Cedric's done," Ron began, "and that just leaves Harry, Fleur, and Krum. Krum'll be brilliant, I just know it."

"Just because he can sit on a broom and chase a Snitch doesn't mean he'll be any good at stealing a fake egg from a dragon," Hermione said as she watched a green dragon, slightly smaller than the one Cedric faced, come into the stadium and sniffed the air cautiously. Cheers erupted again and the looked over to the Champions tunnel as a figure emerged.

Her breathing stopped and her heart raced.

It was Fleur's turn.

The Beauxbatons started to chant in French. Fleur searched the crowd for someone, confident that her opponent hadn't spotted her yet. Just as her eyes were about to fall on Hermione, the Welsh Green let out a roar and charged. It reached the end of its chain quickly but that didn't stop it. Its neck was long enough that its mouth reached the Veela girl. Its mouth closed around the space she had been standing in seconds before.

Hermione gasped. She, like most of the other spectators in the arena, was on her feet. Fleur had jumped to avoid the hundreds of sharp teeth in the dragon's mouth, but she slipped on some small rocks and fell. Her wand flew out of her hand.

_Shit_, she thought. _Where'd it go?_

Flames filled the air once more and Fleur was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

"No!" Hermione screamed. At the same time she heard a Beauxbaton, presumably Gabrielle, shout, "Fleur!"

Under the heat of the flames, Fleur heard nothing. She had ducked under a boulder at the last minute, and she smelled something burning. Her hair, pulled back in a ponytail, was singed. Anger rose up in her as she spied her wand and grabbed it.

When the fire died she made a made run for the egg. She tripped and fell again, scraping her knees, hands, and chin; however, she kept her grip tight on her wand.

Hermione didn't want to watch but couldn't force herself to look away. The girl she liked was down there on the run from an angry dragon. She was so worried for the blonde that the thought slipped and she didn't think to correct it. Vaguely she wondered if Fleur's heart was beating as fast as hers was.

It was lucky she fell. A clawed paw swiped the air above her. She turned onto her back and shot a spell at the dragon. Shiny black ribbons shot out of the end of her wand and tied themselves around its smoking snout. Her body-bind curse would've been enough to detain a full-grown man; it just barely kept the dragon's mouth shut.

"_Protego!_" she shouted, and a magical barrier separated her from the green lizard. She thought she heard Professor Flitwick yell excitedly at the quality of her shield. Fleur scrambled to her feet and ran full-out towards the egg. The air rang out with cries of encouragement, and then shouts of warning as the dragon broke free of its bonds. It gave chase but was too late to protect its golden charge.

The Beauxbatons Champion had her prize.

Hermione's heart burst with relief. Fleur had survived.

She had been standing the entire time, but now her legs turned to jelly and she had to sit down. Tears started to form in her eyes and she blinked hard to get rid of them. How could she explain her tears to Ginny and Ron?

She needn't have worried. Ron was too caught up watching Krum take on a red dragon ("The Chinese Fireball! Charlie said its vicious! GO KRUM! WHOO!") to pay her any mind. Ginny was nervous for Harry, though she would never admit it.

During Krum's run, she couldn't focus on the action in front of her at all. Her mind kept replaying all the close calls during Fleur's run. Right now she was probably being looked over by Madam Pomfrey for any serious damage. Her one fall looked like it hurt; from her seat she could see Fleur's hands take some damage.

_Not those wonderful, soft hands_…Visions from her dream invaded her mind once more. Cheers and yelling from the Durmstrang section roused her out of her musings. Krum had his egg.

"That just leaves Harry…" The final dragon entered the rocky arena. "Blimey, that's the Hungarian Horntail…Harry's in for it, alright…"

Their dark-haired friend entered the stadium to both cheers and jeers. Hermione did her best to focus on the match but in the back of her head she kept repeating _she's safe, she's safe, Fleur's safe…_

Suddenly the Horntail was free of its restraints and Harry had successfully summoned his Firebolt. A scared gasp rang in the air as the combatants took off towards the school. Everyone stood and faced the action that could no longer be seen or heard. Hermione was paying full attention now.

Though it seemed much longer, ten minutes later Harry zoomed into view and back into the arena, greeted by shouts and cries of triumph. The Horntail was nowhere in sight as he grasped the egg from the back of his broomstick. He was bleeding in a few places and a little swollen in others. The canon fired again, signaling the end of the first task.

Hermione was cheering alongside Ron, Ginny, and the rest of Gryffindor House. She could breathe easy.

Harry and, more importantly, Fleur were safe.

_One task down, two to go._

She wasn't sure if her heart could take much more abuse.


	7. What Hurts the Most

The Champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons now had devoted followings trailing behind them everywhere they went. Krum ignored it for the most part, though when he was in the mood he would play to the girls following him- asking them stupid questions, having them do stuff for him, or just flexing his muscles and letting them feel. Fleur was less than happy with her fan club. She'd been used to boys (and occasionally girls) gawking at her since she was fourteen. Now it was just plain annoying, especially when the one person she wanted falling head-over-heels for her all but refused to do so. Actually, the exact opposite of what she wanted was happening.

It seemed that Hermione was…avoiding her.

Fleur was definitely not used to this. For the past two years, all she had to do was snap her fingers and should could pick and choose who she wanted to try out from a highly attractive selection before ultimately throwing them out like Kleenex. She was uncomfortable admitting it, but she hated everyone else's attention. She just wasn't used to being ignored by anyone, let alone the one person she wanted more than anything.

If her mother were here, she'd say that Hermione ignoring her was good. _The girl is immune, she must fall for you, not your blood_, she would tell her daughter. Fleur knew she should be happy the spitfire was immune. She just couldn't make herself feel it She doubted anyone else would be able to match her blow for blow like Hermione surely could.

It was Thursday night. Fleur was lying on her bed in the carriage, thinking. Her brunette crush was definitely avoiding her. At the end of their only shared class, Charms, Hermione would magic her things into a pile and run off before Fleur was even thinking of waving her wand to do the same and give chase. It was infuriating. Her spitfire would be in a room when Fleur would enter, or vice versa, and she would leap to her feet and excuse her self and be gone seconds later. That always stung the most. The girl didn't even try to make her avoidance subtle.

She was doing a darn good job of denying her feelings.

_No matter_, Fleur thought as an idea popped into her head. She ran with it and saw no large drawbacks. It would be a risk, but she had to take the chance.

She had a plan.

--

Hermione was proud and upset at the same time. At herself. She was avoiding Fleur as best she could, which was why she was upset- she was _too_ good. But she was proud because who knew what would slip if they were alone together? Things she didn't want to slip almost certainly would.

The brunette was sure that if she spilled her guts to the blonde, the only reaction she'd get would be a derisive laugh followed by the word 'freak' and then Fleur would be walking away laughing, disgusted that Hermione would think and feel such things.

She had made it through the week without speaking to Fleur. Just one more class and she'd be home free for the weekend. After that, the rest of the year loomed ahead of her for seemingly endless miles. She would just have to live one week at a time, make the best of it, and ignore what her heart was telling her.

At her seat there was a rolled up piece of parchment. She looked automatically towards Fleur's seat. It was vacant. She picked it up and unrolled it. The paper smelled like some kind of perfume. It smelled like Fleur, she realized. She never knew she knew how Fleur smelled, though it didn't surprise her. The handwriting was neat and obviously feminine. Fleur's.

_Hermione,_

_I realize that you may not wish to see me, but I feel as though we must talk. Please meet me in the library tonight at 8:30._

_Yours, Fleur_

She glanced up quickly across the classroom. The blonde was nowhere in sight. A fierce internal battle began inside Hermione. Of course she wanted to see Fleur. She just didn't know if it was wise, especially in the library. Her dream was a recurring one and she doubted she could keep her head clean in that particular room.

Not only that, but ever since she'd been in there hiding from Fleur she'd noticed Viktor Krum's presence growing more obvious. He began just in the library, then gradually moved closer to the aisles near her. By Thursday he was in the same aisle as her, fan club in tow. She would glance up to see him looking at her oddly, the fan club glaring at her for taking his attention away. She was glad Harry and Cedric were interested in Cho Chang; she had enough trouble with two Champions as is.

The classroom was filling quickly, but still no Fleur. Hermione tore a small piece of parchment away and wrote hastily on it. Then she practically ran to put it at Fleur's seat and get back to her own just as the blonde in question walked in with a dark-haired girl. They headed right to their seats, Hermione watching them as she panted to get her breathing under control. Nobody seemed to have noticed her cross-classroom sprint.

Fleur saw the parchment and stopped dead in her tracks. She smiled at what her friend was saying but it didn't reach her eyes. She scooped the parchment up and hid it before the other girl saw.

--

She had been walking to class with Claire, acting like nothing was different. An hour earlier she had snuck into Flitwick's room and placed the note to Hermione on her desk in the hopes that she would get a positive response. Then she made sure they were later than usual to class in order to give Hermione a chance to respond.

Her heart was going fast when they stepped into the room. Hermione was just sitting down, and she felt panic. Was she just about to read the note? Or did she ignore it completely when she found out it was from Fleur and had just thrown it out? She assumed the worst.

So when she go to her seat and saw the scrap of parchment waiting for her, her heart leapt for joy in her chest. She pocketed it before Claire saw it and suddenly she couldn't wait for class to start so she could read it.

Somehow it didn't matter whether her response was positive or negative; she had responded, and that was enough.

--

Fleur stood shivering in the moonlight. She was near the trees on the bank of the lake, waiting. It was almost December and nobody else was out on the grounds now. She thought vaguely that snow would start falling soon. She loved the snow. Her parents took the family skiing regularly during breaks from school. Maybe there would be snowball fights followed by hot chocolate and cuddling in front of a fire…

She heard leaves crunching underfoot and looked up. A figure slightly smaller than herself with bushy brown hair was walking towards her, head down against the wind that was now blowing. Her heart leapt in her chest like it did a few hours ago. She had come.

Fleur was somewhat surprised. She was worried that Hermione's reply had been a trick to get Fleur to leave her alone after class so she could make another clean getaway. But she had kept her word and was now standing next to fleur, looking everywhere but her eyes.

"You wanted to talk to me?" she asked, looking at the lake.

"Oui. Let's walk and talk, though. It is chilly tonight." And they started off along the edge of the water. Fleur was glad to have this chance, though why they weren't inside the warm library working on their paper was a mystery. This walk outside was Hermione's idea, as well as the fact that it was later than Fleur requested. Not that she was complaining now. "May I ask why we're meeting out here? We still have to finish our essay, that's why I asked to meet you there."

The other girl was looking up at the sky. "I guess I've grown tired of the library." Honestly, she was tired of hiding in there, away from Fleur. "Plus it seems like every time I'm in there Viktor is, too, watching me. It's kind of flattering but at the same time…" she admitted before trailing off. She finally turned her head to look at Fleur, who had been watching her speak. If Hermione had looked into her eyes before, she would've noticed the transition from curious concern to jealous annoyance. That Krum had the nerve to essentially stalk Hermione was enough to make Fleur's Veela blood simmer angrily.

"'e is…watching you?" She kept her voice neutral.

Hermione looked up towards the castle as though waiting for him to appear at any moment. "Yeah. I mean, it was cute at first but now just the look in his eyes when he looks at me…" she shuddered and they continued walking in silence. Fleur couldn't help but notice that Hermione wasn't fond of the attention, and this helped calm down her anger. They walked in the companionable silence until Fleur decided to get to the matter at hand.

"'ermione…" The brunette tore her gaze away from the sky to look at Fleur. "You 'ave been avoiding me. Why?"

Oh, no. Hermione couldn't tell her the truth; she felt certain that the scenario in her head would take place. But she had prepared herself for this and gave that answer instead, keeping the truth from blurting itself out.

"I've been helping Harry try to decipher how to open the egg without that awful racket. You haven't figured out the next clue, have you?" She had hoped that the question would keep Fleur from returning to the whole avoidance issue.

"Non, I 'ave not." She thought about the egg, which was currently sitting on her dresser in the carriage. _Maybe if I drown the stupid thing it would shut up…too bad you can't drown inanimate objects…_she thought with a rueful smirk on her face. Then she realized what Hermione was trying to do. It had almost worked.

"But surely the egg cannot be talking up all of your time. 'Ermione," she stopped walking and faced the girl, her back now to the lake. "why 'ave you been avoiding me? Is it something I did or said?" Her voice grew softer and she looked pleadingly, searchingly into Hermione's eyes. Fleur's hands found hers and grasped them gently. "Please, _ma chere_, tell me."

Hermione's eyes were wide. Fleur's obvious distress, plus the French endearment, just made her melt on the spot. She tried to tell herself that she hated the girl, but the words fell on her own deaf ears. She struggled with the words as they came out.

"No, I…" she swallowed, "I-I think I hear someone calling me. I've got to-" she paused and took a long look into Fleur's hurt eyes and shut her own, ashamed of herself for hurting the beautiful girl before her. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Then her hands were out of Fleur's and she was retreating up the grounds to the castle, leaving Fleur behind.

--

Back in the common room, she sat next to the fire, staring into it. Harry, Ron, and Ginny all asked her what was wrong when she entered and sat down, but how could she tell them?

Honestly, she hated herself right now. She had panicked and left Fleur standing there. Now her heart ached as though _she_ was the one left alone beside the lake.

The noise in the common room finally got to her and she stood, feeling emotionally drained all of a sudden. She headed up to her dormitory without even saying goodnight. When her head hit the pillow she couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The burning ache in her heart just wouldn't stop.

When she finally ran out of tears to shed, sleep claimed her and took her into a peaceful oblivion.

--

This had never happened before. Never. Fleur Delacour never got rejected. By anyone.

Until tonight.

She supposed she ought to feel angry, but all she felt was sad and hurt. Hermione didn't offer and explanation, only an excuse, before running off. That was probably what hurt the most. She couldn't even explain herself to Fleur.

The blonde walked slowly back to the carriage and into her room. She shut the door and sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her temples slowly. She wondered how long it would take for the pain to go away. It felt as though a troop of Dementors had stationed themselves around her permanently.

There was a knock at the door. Fleur didn't want to talk to anyone, especially Gabrielle, who she suspected was at the door. "Enter," she called tiredly. The door opened. It wasn't Gabrielle.

Claire shut the door behind her and walked over to stand in front of her best friend. "What's wrong? I saw you come in looking so…forlorn." The dark-haired girl looked concerned as she spoke in French.

"I…" she debated telling Claire the truth. "I've been rejected tonight." Claire gasped. In all the time she'd known Fleur, the blonde had never been rejected, even once.

"By who?"

Fleur sighed. "It wasn't really rejection per se, but…"

She told Claire everything. Their first encounter in the Great Hall, Charms class together, working in the library, her jealousy of Krum, everything, uncensored. Claire listened attentively, not interrupting. When Fleur finished retelling what happened that night, Claire put her arms around her friend." I'm so sorry Fleur, but at least you know she'll be worth it, right?"

Fleur smiled a little at her friend's cheerful optimism. "Yeah." Then fleur realized something. "You're okay with this? I mean, I technically just came out to you…"

Claire grinned. "Fleur, you honestly think I care? We've been through a lot together, something like this isn't going to force us apart. You're like my sister. If this Granger girl is who you want, then by all means, go get her. I want you to be happy, and I'll be cheering for you all the way."

Fleur hugged her tightly, a large smile on her face. Claire always knew how to make her feel better. "Thank you."

"No problem. But if you ever so much as think on trying to pull any moves on me," she continued with mock seriousness, "you're teeth are going to have a rude introduction with my hand. Deal?" she pulled back and offered her hand.

Fleur grasped it with her own, a grin on her face.

"Deal."

--

AN: Hope you liked it. As always, review and tell me how I'm doing. If you have suggestions or guesses as to where I'll take this next, go ahead and voice them. I might just like your ideas and use them...


	8. The Yule Ball

AN: The usual, nothing belongs to me except the plot, and even that's debateable. Thanks go out to Yoshiyuki Ly for beta-ing this. Enjoy.

* * *

The month of December was in full swing over the grounds of Hogwarts. Snow had fallen thickly over everything and gave the land a clean, pure feel. Smoke could be seen twirling lazily out of the chimney of Hagrid's hut. Classes would be over soon and some of the students would be leaving for the holidays. Most were staying, however, since they found out about the Yule Ball to be held on Christmas Day.

Midway through the month it seemed that just about everyone had a date. Harry and Ron were two exceptions, and this didn't surprise anyone but them. Ron had asked every female he came in contact with (except Hermione, of course) and was shot down every time.

There was only on person who didn't have a date that surprised everybody. Not like she wasn't asked. Quite the contrary, she was asked more times than she cared to count. The only reason she didn't have a date was because the one person she wanted to go with hadn't asked her. She knew it was ridiculous to hope that her crush would, but she couldn't help it.

So a week before the ball she made up her mind to ask the other person instead. It would surprise them, to be sure, but she was certain it was the only way to secure her date to the ball. It would be worth it in the end.

She entered the Great Hall alone, a confident smile lighting up her features. Her long, shapely legs carried her smoothly to the Gryffindor table where her quarry was sitting between Harry and the annoying redheaded boy. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she approached. A few yards away from them, their conversation reached her ears. She slowed her pace and listened, the smile leaving her face.

"Alright then. Hermione, would you go to the Yule Ball with me?" Ron was saying. The brunette in question burst out in anger at him.

"No Ron, I won't go to the Yule Ball with you. I can't. I already have a date. Maybe if you're a bit faster next time you won't be going alone, unlike those of us capable of finding dates on time." And she stood as she all but shouted the last bit, turning to leave the hall. Standing not two feet from her was Fleur, looking bewildered by what she just heard. The scowl on Hermione's face deepened as she forced her way past the blonde whose mind was reeling.

Hermione already had a date?

And the redhead honestly thought he was in her league? Give her a break.

But back to more important things: Hermione had a date. With someone who wasn't Fleur. With someone who was going to regret their decision very soon if she had anything to say about it.

Her legs changed course and guided her to the Ravenclaw table, where one of her would-be suitors was sitting. He wasn't bad looking, and he was the captain of his house's Quidditch team. She could do much worse for herself, like the redheaded boy. Two minutes later she was walking away feeling disgusted with herself. The good news was, she had a respectable date to the Yule Ball.

The bad news was, her date wasn't and couldn't hope to compare to Hermione.

--

The week passed in the same fashion as the month had-Hermione continued her avoidance of Fleur. There was difference now, though. Hermione allowed herself to steal glances at the blonde without feeling guilty. Somehow she knew that Fleur knew she had a date and was hurt by it. It was obvious by the look in her eyes that she felt bad, but she couldn't allow herself to give in to temptation and speak to her.

After the blow-up in the Great Hall, Hermione managed to catch Fleur's attention later in the hallway long enough to mouth 'I'm sorry,' eyes full of remorse. And she was sorry. Sorry that she had a date. Sorry that she was such a knucklehead. Sorry that she was afraid.

Fleur's eyes had softened and the corners of her mouth had lifted up sadly on their own accord. Then she remembered herself. Her eyes hardened, the smile disappeared, and she looked away. A weight pressed itself heavily onto her chest and she fought to ignore it. Why should she feel bad? She could have anyone she wanted to go with.

Anyone but the one person she wanted, damnit.

The ball couldn't be over with soon enough, as far as Fleur was concerned.

--

This was it. The night of the ball had finally arrived. Students spent the day either preparing (girls) or goofing off until just before the festivities began (boys). The hours passed in the blink of an eye and the Great Hall, richly decorated with lots of white, garlands hanging, crystals everywhere, and the usual twelve Christmas trees, began to fill with students in their finest dress robes. It grew close to the time when the dancing would begin. Professor McGonagall was standing at the entrance, ushering students in, looking for the Champions and their dates.

Viktor was there first, dateless but certain that she'd show up soon. Fleur, Claire, and their dates were standing to the side, talking. Her date was Roger something, captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. She chose him because he could talk to her without his face changing into unhealthy colors or drooling, though he did sometimes stop mid-sentence to just stare at her. Harry and Ron showed up after Cedric and Cho, the Patil twins with them. Everyone was there except Viktor's date. Professor McGonagall shushed them.

"Once Viktor's date decides to show herself, we can begin. Weasley, Ms. …" she gestured at Claire.

"Claire, Madame."

"Yes. You and your dates are going to have to go into the Hall, if you please."

Ron looked around. "Where's Hermione?" Claire tapped Fleur on the shoulder and nodded to the stairs as Harry answered, "There."

Fleur turned and forgot how to breathe. There she was, indeed. She was walking down the stairs holding the hem of her dress. It was pale pink in color, which complemented her skin tone so well that she seemed to glow in the candlelight. It was cut so as to accentuate her curves, which were subtle but definitely there. Its neckline was low, giving her a modest amount of cleavage. Something silver was nestled in her chest. Her hair was smooth and sleek. It was drawn back into a smart bun, but little twists artfully fell to frame her face.

In short, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

But she was looking past Fleur to Viktor, who held out his arm as she drew close. She smiled up at him and he smiled right back down at her.

_So_ that _was who stole her from me…_Fleur thought furiously. _Well we'll just have to see about that…_

"Now then, Ms. Granger, if you will please take your spot next to Mr. Krum, thank you…" droned on McGonagall. She poked her head in through the closed doors to the hall where Claire and Ron had just disappeared and withdrew it a moment later. "When the doors open, on my signal, you may proceed." A moment later, the doors opened. Music began to play, and the Champions stepped into the hall.

--

Hermione's heart started pounding when she woke up. Then the day passed so quickly and she was standing in her dormitory looking herself over from head to toe. Not a single hair out of place, thanks to second-year girl gifted with glamorization charms. Makeup was just barely noticeable thanks to Parvati Patil, Harry's date for the evening. Her dress was on properly and was laying perfectly on her. Her shoes were actually a par of open-toe heels, matching her dress in color perfectly. And finally, she clasped a simple chain around her neck, two sleek, silver pendulums nestling themselves contentedly in the hollow between her breasts.

She gazed at herself appreciatively. Hopefully Viktor would like it.

Hopefully Fleur would love it.

She suddenly realized that the dormitory was empty. So was the common room when she went down. Everyone was at the ball already. She was late.

She walked as quickly as she could without messying herself up to the stairs that would take her to the Great Hall. She stopped just before revealing herself on the landing to compose herself. She could hear McGonagall ushering everyone else into the hall. She walked forward to the top of the steps and looked down.

Harry, Ron, and the Patil sisters were standing together. Cedric and Cho were in front of them, and Viktor was second in the pseudo-line the Champions were forming. He looked very handsome in his scarlet dress robes with the animal skin cloak and black boots. She smiled at him fondly but he was looking away. No one had noticed her yet and her eyes wandered over to the final Champion.

She was wearing a stunning gown made of what looked like silk. It was silvery-blue and showed off her many curves. The neckline was a little lower than Hermione's but Fleur could handle it quite nicely. It all but clung to her like a second skin. There was a tasteful amount of makeup around her eyes and there was a wonderfully kissable shade of lipstick coloring her lips. Her hair, normally pulled back to allow her hat to lay nicely, was free and flowing down her back like a platinum curtain. She took Hermione's breath away.

Fleur was standing with her one dark-haired friend and their dates. Hermione saw that the 'lucky man' was Roger Davies from Ravenclaw. The girl noticed her and nudged Fleur a second before she heard Ron asking where she was. Harry turned, saw her, and replied. Viktor and Fleur both turned around at the same time to look at her. She focused on Viktor and took his offered arm when she reached him. She offered him a smile and he returned it. Hermione was almost painfully aware of Fleur the whole way.

Next thing she knew, they were walking through the parted crowd inside the lavishly decorated Great Hall to generous applause. Then she was standing in place apart from Viktor, her right hand in his while the other rested on his shoulder, his other hand at the small of her back. She could see Fleur over Viktor's shoulder in a similar position with Roger. Her eyes came back up to Viktor's and the music began.

The Champions dance was a waltz. The four pairs glided through the steps more or less gracefully. The boys lifted up the girls in time with the music to a smattering of applause. A few teachers joined the dance now. Gradually the dance floor filled and before too long the waltz was over. The Weird Sisters appeared from among the crowd and took the stage under a large amount of cheering and clapping.

Then the dancing _really_ began.

Students claimed the floor with moves that the teachers wouldn't be caught dead doing. Everyone allowed themselves to be caught in the moment as they swayed, bumped, and grinded. During one song a blushing Hagrid and Madame Maxime took up a quarter of the floor as they danced. Teachers and students alike let themselves forget about the Tournament and just cut loose.

Hermione danced with Viktor for the most part, though you couldn't really call what he did dancing. She thought it was endearing. Her thoughts never strayed to the hypnotizing blonde lost in the crowd despite some brief glimpses of the girl as they danced. She tried to ignore the looks she would catch Fleur giving her. They removed themselves from the dancing for a well-deserved break. Her date excused himself to go grab drinks, so she made her way over to join Harry and Ron.

--

Fleur was having a less-than-perfect time with Roger. He was an alright dancer but he just wasn't who she wanted to be with. She could see Hermione dancing with Viktor across the floor, a happy smile lighting up her face. She could feel her Veela blood beginning to boil in jealousy. Glimpses of the brunette's smile helped to alleviate some of the tension she was feeling. A few songs later Claire danced her way over, alone, to Fleur and Roger. She told him that somebody from his house was looking for him and he went off in search of this person. Knowing Claire, nobody was looking for him; she just needed him to disappear. When he was gone Claire turned to her friend excitedly.

"He just left her to go get drinks. I'll distract him so you can make your move. She's right over there." She pointed towards where the trio was talking heatedly. "Don't say I never do anything nice for you. Now go get her, tiger!" She didn't give Fleur a chance to respond and was gone as quick as she came, her mischievous laughter dancing in her wake.

Fleur was left standing on the edge of the dance floor watching as Hermione became upset at what the redhead was saying before storming off. This was her chance, then. She took a deep breath and followed the distraught brunette.

--

She found her quarry alone out in the area of the grounds that was transformed into a lovely little grotto, complete with lights provided by living faeries in the bushes. Music drifted through the castle out to the spot, giving it a very romantic feel. She approached the crying girl quietly.

"'Ermione, what's wrong?" She asked gently, coming behind where she was sitting on a stone bench. Fleur sat next to her. She didn't look at Fleur.

"Ron…" she sniffled, "was being a jerk about Viktor. He said something he shouldn't have and I…" she stopped, staring at the ground dejectedly. Her tears had stopped, at least.

"You…?"

"I came out here because I knew that if I stayed any longer I'd have punched him so his face was as red as his hair." The thought seemed to cheer her and she smiled softly, taking in her surroundings for the first time. She wiped at her cheeks, wet from crying. "Why'd you follow me?"

Fleur thought it best to tell a half-truth. "I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay. 'ermione, why Viktor?" The brunette looked at her.

"Well…this past week I've been pretty upset…then one day in the library he asked me if I wanted to go with him. He was very sweet about it, he said he'd understand if I said no, but I could tell it would hurt him if I did. So…I said yes." Honestly, she had been upset over hurting Fleur, so when Viktor asked, she jumped at the chance without thinking. Now she simply regretted it.

"And Ronald is upset because of this?"

"He just doesn't understand. He thinks, 'Oh, it's just Hermione, who cares how she feels?'…" she trailed off bitterly.

"I care." She was surprised by her own words. She hadn't meant to say them, but hearing about the redhead's lack of concern made her angry.

Hermione looked at her, wide-eyed. She was both afraid and hopeful for this next answer. "You do?"

Fleur was gazing up at the castle. "I…" She turned and her stunningly blue eyes met Hermione's. The chocolate orbs were filled with a mixture of hope and fear. She felt her heart melt and the words rushed out of her. "Yes, I do…very much. I cannot lie to you-I care so much that sometimes, it 'urts. I find that I cannot get you out of my 'ead. I-"

She was cut off as a pair of soft lips darted forth unexpectedly and captured hers. She was startled by Hermione's sudden forcefulness but didn't think too much about it, leaning into the kiss. It was over far too soon, in her opinion.

They sat there looking at each other before Hermione suddenly stood and ran a few paces away, laughing.

"Chase me," she challenged, turning and running off. Fleur was suddenly very giddy, and a grin took over her face. She stood and gave chase, laughing happily. She followed Hermione into the night, all thoughts of jealousy and worry and anger forgotten.

Tomorrow the Tournament would return, but tonight there was only Hermione.

--

In the shadow of the front doors a miniature version of the blonde girl below stood watching the couple from the moment Fleur joined Hermione until they ran off into the night. She was having trouble processing what she just witnessed. Her sister had actually kissed the brunette girl. Then when the other girl ran away, she had given chase. She wasn't sure what to feel right now as she watched the faeries in the grotto move from place to place in the distance.

"Nobody likes a spy, Gabrielle." A familiar voice said behind her. She gasped and turned, embarrassed at being caught.

"I was just-"

"Leaving? Yes, I believe you were. Don't let me catch you spying on them again, or Fleur will be hearing about it." The young blonde nodded and left, fear plain in her eyes. Claire sighed and shook her head as she watched her disappear back into the crowd.

That girl was nothing but trouble.

* * *

AN: I can't believe I'm doing this...-ahem- If you're happy and you know it please review -clap clap- If you're happy and you know it please reiew -clap clap- If you're happy and you know if your review will surely show it. If you're happy and you know it please review! -clap clap-


	9. The Second Task

After the Yule Ball, Harry and Ron noticed Hermione acting differently. Since the other schools arrived, she had been distant and shorter with them than usual, and was holing herself up in the library more than necessary-almost as if she were avoiding someone. But now she was almost…genuinely _happy_. They both assumed the sudden change was due to Viktor taking an interest in her. Harry was happy for her. Ron was clearly upset over it but refused to admit it. When asked, he just mumbled something about traitors and gits and changed the subject.

For Hermione, the time between the ball and the Second Task was spent divided between three of the four Champions. When she wasn't in the library studying with Viktor, she was either out on the grounds somewhere with Fleur or in the common room or Great Hall with Harry and Ron. It felt like the only alone time she had was when she was showering or sleeping. Even then she wasn't truly alone; Fleur kept popping into her thoughts and dreams.

Not that she minded. Hermione had accepted herself as bisexual, though it did feel a little weird to fantasize about her new friend. During their talks they had established an easy friendship, though there was a definite undercurrent of something much deeper lurking every time they saw or spoke to each other. Both felt it, but they had an unspoken agreement that it was best not to talk about it yet.

One day they were out in the thinner part of the woods, just walking. Hermione had been talking about her family-what her parents did, the fact that she was an only child, how they took the shock of Dumbledore turning up on their doorstep to explain that their daughter was a witch.

"That was really funny, looking back on it. Their faces were absolutely priceless. I was all excited, hearing about it for the first time, but they were skeptical. He had to transform an antique piece of china into a kitten before they believed him. I wanted to keep it, but they said-"

A snowball flew out from nowhere and hit her in the back. She spun around angrily, expecting Harry or Ron to come out grinning at her, but it was Fleur who was grinning evilly as she threw another at the brunette. It hit her squarely in the chest.

"Well, ze first one was a little bit 'igh, but ze second one was right on target," she laughed. Seeing the determined look in Hermione's eyes, she turned and ran, still laughing, as a snowball much larger than hers came flying after her. It missed but was quickly followed by another that hit her in the small of her back.

She fell to her knees, laughing, as Hermione came chasing after her. She tried to stop before hitting Fleur but slid on a hidden patch of ice. They collided and fell in a heap, giggling all the way down.

Hermione ended up lying on top of Fleur. When their giggles subsided, they stared in each others eyes, small smiles on their lips. Tension settled heavily in the air as the younger girl bit her bottom lip, obviously debating something. Fleur looked lovingly into her eyes, willing her to say what was on her mind.

"Fleur…"

"Oui?"

She could see the struggle in those deliciously brown eyes. They had never brought up what happened the night of the Yule Ball, and her heart began to race in her chest. Was this it, then? Would they finally tell each other how they truly felt?

"I…There's something I need to-oh, I'm not good at this." Her head shifted to the side, looking away towards the castle. Fleur gently pushed her face back to her and captured her eyes with her own.

"Not good at what? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know zat."

"Well…" She glanced away and took a deep breath to steady herself. Fleur waited patiently, still pinned to the ground. "I guess…I'll just show you, then."

She closed the gap between them, bringing her lips to Fleur's. It was a gentle, tender kiss, but there was a hint of urgency in the way she pressed her lips to the older girls just before moving away. Fleur smiled.

It was a start.

--

It was February now, a week before the Second Task. All four Champions had figured out the clue by now. They all had some idea as to what they were going to do, but each eyed the Black Lake with apprehension when they passed.

Two days before the task Hermione and Fleur were walking outside in the crisp air. They were talking about France. Fleur was telling Hermione about some of the more interesting aspects of the Beauxbatons Academy.

"Ze palace is beautiful zis time of year. Ze snow is zheek and snow angels are all over ze grounds. Fencing is really important zere, and ze older grades 'old a tournament to find ze best fencer. I came close to winning last year, but I was injured ze night before when I was practicing. I couldn't compete and 'ad to forfeit. It was a tragedy, but I 'ave survived." She smiled down at Hermione, who had a slightly vacant expression on her face. "But enough about me, I am boring you. 'Ermione, you 'ave been quiet tonight. Is somezing wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, no. I was just thinking…"she trailed off. Fleur waited patiently for her to continue. They walked a few more paces and the lake came in sight. She stopped abruptly and turned to the older girl. "Fleur, aren't you scared? I mean, yeah, you have an idea as to what the task is, but have you noticed anything of importance or value missing?"

"Non, 'ermione, I 'ave told you zat nozzing is missing or out of place."

Hermione was beginning to get worked up over this. She had been holding it in for several days now. "And this doesn't bother you? You're not worried?" Her scarlet and gold scarf waved in the wind behind her.

"What? Of course I'm worried. I 'ave an 'our to find what was taken, or else it is gone forever. I 'ave to breathe underwater for zat 'our, too. 'Ermione, I'm _very _worried. But I try not to zink about it. Madame and I 'ave a plan ready. Everyzing will be fine." Fleur smiled reassuringly at Hermione, who was visibly upset. She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Fleur in a tight embrace. She was shocked by the sudden display of affection since they were out in the open, but gently placed her arms around the brunette.

"Fleur, promise me something." Her voice came muffled from Fleur's shoulder.

"Anyzing."

"Don't let yourself get hurt."

"'Ermione, you know I can't-"

"Please. Just-for me."

Fleur sighed. She pulled Hermione away from her and gazed into her eyes. She could tell the other girl felt strongly about this, and her heart softened.

"Alright. I'll do my best."

Hermione attached herself to Fleur again.

"Thank you."

--

Inside the thin part of the woods, a little blonde girl watched as her older self and the brunette girl she had been speaking with lately walked into view near the lake. She was supposed to be looking for signs that unicorns were in the area, but her partner, a boy from Hogwarts, had wandered off, leaving her alone. Once she sighted her sister, she didn't let her or her new 'friend' out of her sight.

They were talking. Well, Fleur was. Her sister looked at the other girl, Hermy-something. They walked a little further and stopped. A heated discussion started. She could see both of them; Hermione's back was to her. Suddenly she wrapped her arms around Fleur, who was just as surprised as Gabrielle. But she smiled and returned the gesture.

An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of Gabrielle's stomach. She looked over her shoulders; Claire wasn't nearby to catch her spying. Looking back towards her sister, she saw them retreating back to the castle, hand in hand.

Her mind was made up then and there as to what she would do.

"Gabrielle! David! Come on back now!" Her teacher called. She couldn't decide whether to turn back or keep looking. The pair had disappeared. She began to walk back towards Hagrid, her teacher. She wasn't sure if she liked him or not; but it seemed that Madame Maxime did.

She was having trouble trusting new people with the ones she loved.

--

The next day Hermione found herself focusing on Harry. Fleur's friend Claire was there for her, and she also had Gabrielle. Viktor passed through her mind once, and while she cared for him a little, he just wasn't Harry or Fleur. They actually spoke to her. And, Fleur's accent notwithstanding, they could pronounce her name. It was endearing, but endearments can only get you so far.

It was after dinner now, and the trio was in the library. Harry's previous plan for breathing underwater, an air-bubble charm, had fallen through. He could only keep it for about twenty-five minutes. So now they were scrambling to find a replacement strategy.

When nothing presented itself willingly, they resorted to arguing.

"Hermione, what's Vicky-poo doing to breathe?" Ron asked with innocent bitterness. Her two best friends didn't know about her relationship with Fleur yet. She told herself she'd talk to at least Harry about it. Eventually.

"For the last time, Ronald, I don't know. We don't talk about the Tournament that much. We don't really talk about anything. He just watches me study. And would you please stop calling him 'Vicky-poo?' His name's Viktor." She added irritably.

"What, is he going to jump out from behind a bookcase and hex me?"

"Guys…" Harry began.

"Probably not, no. But keep it up and I just might." Hermione shot back.

"Guys…"

"Oh, I'm so scared. Vicky-poo can't defend himself, so Hermy-own-ninny's going to do it for him. Why don't you, huh? Be rid of me and you'll have him all to yourself." He glared at Hermione.

"That's it." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Ron. "Last chance."

"Um, guys-"

"What?" She wheeled on Harry but kept her wand pointed at Ron's chest.

"Miss Granger, kindly put your wand away before Mr. Weasley gets hurt."

She gasped and turned, her wand lowering instantly. Professor McGonagall was standing at the end of the bookcases, looking mildly surprised.

"Now if I'm not interrupting anything, I'd like to see you in my office." When Harry was the only one who moved, she added, "Not you, Potter. I need Granger and Weasley this time." Hermione visibly paled at this. "You're not in trouble, Miss Granger, rest assured. But if I ever see you pointing your wand at another student in such a manner again, I'll be forced to take points away from Gryffindor. Come along now."

She turned and left as they began to gather their books. None of them said a single word until Hermione was about to leave, standing in the spot McGonagall had just vacated.

"Get some sleep, Harry. You have a big day tomorrow." Then she left to follow her head of House.

Ron followed a minute later, asking, "Geez, what's gotten into her?"

--

There was only a half hour separating Fleur and the Second Task. She had spent her time worrying with Claire, but Gabrielle was nowhere to be found. None of her sister's friends knew where she was. She wasn't at breakfast or in the carriage when Fleur went to check in her room.

She was standing on the platform in the middle of the lake with Madame Maxime. Viktor and Karkaroff were to her left, while Harry, Cedric, and Dumbledore were to her right. Something felt off. She knew Gabrielle's disappearance had something to do with it, but it wasn't until she heard Harry and Viktor talking that she realized what was making her so uneasy.

"Harry, haff you seen Herm-own-ninny today? She es meesing."

"No, sorry. I haven't seen her or Ron today. It's weird…"

The minutes passed and still no Gabrielle or Hermione. All too soon, Dumbledore was announcing the start of the Second Task. Claire wished her luck and stepped back, smiling encouragingly. She tried not to worry as she pulled the words of her charm to the forefront of her mind.

The cannon fired and the Champions jumped into the Black Lake.

--

There was a reason it was called the Black Lake. Very little light penetrated the surface, giving the water its murkiness. Fleur had cast the air-bubble charm, and was certain she had seen Cedric doing the same thing. Viktor was gone before she could see what he did, and she didn't bother to see what Harry had come up with.

There was no way for her to tell the time. She searched the lake for what seemed to be hours. The silence of the water was beginning to get to her. Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she heard the whisper of a song somewhere ahead of her.

Fleur swam faster ahead, coming upon what appeared to be the dwellings of the merpeople. As she swam through the rough stone houses, merpeople were watching her, pointing and talking behind their hands. Her wand was out, but none of them moved to attack her.

Looming out in the darkness was four shapes. As she got closer she could make out that three of them were tied to a stone, drifting on their ropes, apparently asleep due to the bubbles coming out of their noses. Harry was there, looking torn. Fleur could see why.

One rope was floating limply, it's captive already freed. Ron, Hermione, and Gabrielle were still there. She looked questioningly at Harry, who waved her towards Gabrielle. She shot a pained look at Hermione, hoping he wouldn't notice. Once Gabrielle was free, she nodded at Harry, who returned the gesture. She made her way up through the water towards the surface.

She released her charm and gulped in air gratefully, her sister doing the same beside her. Cheers erupted as they swam back to the platforms full of spectators. Cedric and his rescuee were already there, towels wrapped around them.

Fifteen minutes remained on the clock. With ten to go, Harry and Ron surfaced. At the five-minute mark, Viktor came up from the depths with Hermione.

The Second Task was over. All the Champions had succeeded.

--

There were no opportunities to talk to Hermione that evening. The Champions, tired as they were, had no chance to calm down. Parties were thrown in their honor, and almost everywhere they went they couldn't escape the pats on the back or wishes of good luck.

Fleur returned to the Beauxbatons carriage sometime around eleven-thirty. A celebration was still going strong in the hallways. Madame Maxime was too overjoyed to make them sleep. Girls were spilling out of their bedrooms in various states of dress. A cheer erupted and followed her to the door of her room. Her face hurt from smiling so much at everyone. She was very worn out. All she wanted now was to collapse and not wake up until she was dead. After one final cheer from her schoolmates, she entered her room and shut the door firmly behind her. The light came on with a wave of her hand.

It was then that she noticed it. Hovering a few feet above where it had been laying on her desk was a bright red envelope. It began to convulse, as though it were about to explode any minute. She cast a silencing spell on her door. Though she doubted anyone would hear it above the party, she was better safe than sorry. Then, with great reluctance, she approached the waiting Howler.

Fleur's suspicions were confirmed when it opened its flap and her mother's voice began to berate her in high-pitched French.

"_Fleur Isabelle Delacour, I don't know just what you think you're doing in England, but what I'm hearing from Gabrielle really worries me. She says you've been hanging around with some girl, almost and then actually _kissing _her! And you've been holding hands! I knew that country-no, that school would do something funny to you. Your sister is very concerned and confused. I'm not very happy that you entered this Tournament either, young lady. Now I know I'm not there and that I don't know the particulars, but whatever you're doing, you need to stop it right now. If I get any more letters from Gabrielle like the last one, I'll be coming down there to get you myself. First and final warning."_

The envelope stopped moving and burst into flames, ashes falling onto the floor. Fleur waved her wand and they flew into the trash. Her tiredness was now replaced with something worse: she was pissed. She _told_ Gabrielle not to write to their mother.

Though it was puzzling. Normally Veelas were very open about who their Chosen were, no matter their gender. She didn't know her mother to be homophobic in the least. It was possible that she was just overreacting about what Gabrielle wrote to her. But there was nothing she could do now. Tonight she would sleep, dreaming up slow, painful way to kill her little sister.

She would show Gabrielle what she chose in the morning.

* * *

AN: Hope you liked it. Sorry for the wait, school and a touch of writers block are the cause. I've decided to French-ify Fleur a bit more with her accent. Questions, comments, concerns? Review or PM as you see fit. Rating (may) go up in the next few chapters. No promises. kthxbai :)


	10. Sister Fight

It was late at night and the Gryffindor common room was empty, save for the trio of fourth years still doing homework. Well, Harry and Hermione were dong homework. Ron was almost sound asleep on the couch, his half-finished Potions essay laying out on the table in front of him. He began to snore lightly. Harry looked up from his own paper. He stood and stretched, then walked over to his best friend and gently shook him.

"Ron, go to bed."

He snorted awake and blinked sleepily. "Whuh?" He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the drool.

"Bed. You can finish your paper tomorrow."

Ron stood, yawning. Without a backwards glance to his paper, he trudged off to the stairs leading to the dormitories. A minute later the door could be heard closing. Harry picked up Ron's essay and brought it back to where he was working. Hermione had ignored the whole thing, absorbed in her book. The fire crackled in the hearth next to her.

Neither of them spoke. The common room was silent except for the scratching of Harry's quill, or an occasional page turning. The portraits on the walls were all sound asleep. A half hour passed before the silence started to bother Harry. There was something bothering him, and he had to voice it now when they were alone together.

"Hermione?"

No answer.

"Hermione."

"What, Harry?" She turned another page.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but is there anything going on between you and Fleur Delacour?"

She visibly tensed, though she tried not to. Her heart sped up from just hearing her name. "Why would you say that?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Well, I…" He stood and moved to sit in the armchair across from her by the fire. She shut her book and looked at him. "I've noticed you two hanging around each other more, talking and laughing."

She leveled a steady gaze at him. "And this constitutes something being between us? I talk and laugh with you and Ron all the time. Is there something between us?"

"No, but this is different. I mean, the look in your eyes…it's the same look Ron gets when he-" Harry stopped, realizing what he was about to say.

"When he what?"

Harry looked over his shoulder, making sure they were alone. "You haven't noticed?"

She shook her head. "Noticed _what_, Harry?"

He sighed. "It's the same look he gives you, Hermione. The ridiculous look of wishes and longing."

"Like the one you give Cho?"

Harry blushed. "Well, not exactly-look, if you don't want to tell me, it's fine."

A clock chimed somewhere in the castle. It rang twelve times and fell silent. He didn't say anything else in the following silence, but something was still bothering him and it showed. Hermione bit her lip, debating. Finally:

"What gave us away?" she admitted. Hermione figured that if she broke it to him, he at least would understand and not blow up on her like Ron would.

"During the Second Task, I was waiting for Viktor and Fleur to show up. I couldn't leave you and her sister down there, you know? And when she got there, I nodded towards her sister, figuring they looked enough alike that that was who she was. Fleur nodded, but she looked at you with this odd expression- a mix of fear, concern, and longing. I think she wanted to rescue you but was torn between her sister and you. She probably knew that if she saved you, I definitely would've suspected something."

"But you did anyway."

"Yes, I did."

Hermione was silent. The fire crackled in the hearth. There was so much more on the topic that could've been said, but Hermione was suddenly very tired. She stood, taking care to keep the front and spine of her book out of Harry's field of view. He glimpsed it anyway as she walked away from him, bidding him goodnight.

"_La Vie de la Veela"_

So she was researching Fleur's heritage. A wise thing to do. A very Hermione thing to do. Harry smiled and gathered his things, then followed his friends up the stairs to the dormitories and a good nights sleep.

--

Fleur woke up as angry as she was when her head hit the pillow. Gabrielle had potentially damaged her relationship with Hermione, and it was hard enough as is. There were some things Fleur was willing to overlook when it came to her sister, but this wasn't one of them.

It was Thursday, so Fleur didn't have many opportunities to find her sister and give her a proper strangling. However, her anger didn't diminish because of this; if anything, it made her more dangerous to Gabrielle.

Finally it was dinnertime, and Fleur spotted her younger self sitting a bit further down from her at the Ravenclaw table. Her mouth set in a deep scowl as she chewed on the beef that was that nights meal. Claire noticed and followed her friend's gaze, surprised that the target of her dislike was her sister.

"Something wrong?" she murmured, leaning in closer to her friend.

"_Oui_." Fleur replied tersely.

"Care to talk about it?"

"_Non_."

Claire sighed. It was rare for Fleur to be this angry; even rarer for her to be angry at Gabrielle. She decided to let the subject drop for now, and aimed it towards something Fleur might be more interested in.

"So anyway…I 'eard the most _delicious _rumor about where Cedric figured out ze clue to ze Second Task…""

--

Later that evening Fleur was wandering the school grounds aimlessly, thinking about what Claire had told her at dinner. It _was _an interesting idea. The only obstacle would be getting Hermione to agree to it. They had agreed to take things slowly; doing what Claire had in mind could potentially scare Hermione away.

She turned a corner and spotted Gabrielle. Her old anger flared up, but now it was compounded by the fact that her sister was so utterly oblivious to the pain she had caused.

Gabrielle was surrounded by a group of kids her age. They all laughed at something one of the boys said. She turned, laughing hard. Her amusement was cut short as she spotted her older sister stalking towards her with murder clear in her clear blue eyes. She excused herself from the group and met Fleur halfway. The group of kids watched her go with interest; it seemed that some big sisterly fight was about to break out.

One glance from Fleur sent them scattering, afraid that the fight might decide to include them. As soon as they were alone, Fleur let loose.

"What ze 'ell do you zink you are doing? I told you _not _to write to maman. So what do you do? You write to 'er! Don't you understand _anyzing?"_ Gabrielle flinched. "_I_ need to be ze one to explain it to 'er! If you just tell 'er zat I am seeing a girl for ze sake of seeing a girl and she doesn't know zat ze girl is my Chosen, she will zink zat I am somezing I am not! Do you know zat she sent me a 'owler?"

Her sister shook her head. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, but they were accompanied by anger for being yelled at unfairly.

"She did. And you know what it said? It said zat if she got any more letters from you, zen she will be coming down 'ere to collect us 'erself. Do you want zat to 'appen?"

Fleur had calmed a little; she was no longer yelling. Her voice still held her anger, which made it more frightening than if she had been screaming.

"You know zat I don't, Fleur. But I needed to talk to someone about zis. I'm confused, Fleur." was Gabrielle's quiet reply.

She looked at her sister incredulously. "You're confused? Guess what, so am I. I'm confused as to why I did not leave you at ze bottom of zat lake."

A tear fell down one of Gabrielle's cheeks. "Fleur…"

Her older sister looked away, breathing deeply. She had not meant to say that, but her emotions got the best of her. They stood there in silence. Fleur was calming herself; Gabrielle cried silently from the sting of Fleur's harsh words.

"I'm sorry. I should not 'ave said zat. It's just…zis is very frustrating. Zese feelings I 'ave for 'er are so intense zat sometimes, I'm just so afraid zat somezing, anyzing will come and take 'er away from me. Mozzer zreatening to come and drag me back to France…I don't want to lose 'er. Not like zat."

Fleur was crying now. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Gabrielle. They stood there, alone in the hall, crying silently in each others arms. The wounds they had unknowingly dealt each other finally began to heal. It would be a long process, but in the end they would be all the stronger for it.

--

AN: Writer's Block, n. _When characters get fed up with all you put them through and go on strike._


	11. My Mistake

Two weeks passed since Harry confirmed his suspicions about Fleur and Hermione. The girls were spending more time together now. Harry knew why but didn't say anything. Ron was totally oblivious. When he finally noticed that Hermione was gone more often than she was around, he just scoffed, figuring that she was in the library studying with Vicky-poo. Claire noted that Fleur was around less often as well. She, too, knew why and didn't say anything, though she was starting to miss her friend a bit. However, if this was what it took to make her friend happy, then so be it.

Hermione still spent time with Viktor in the library. Their usual routine stayed in place- she would study, he would watch. They had a comfortable relationship doing this. One day, however, a problem arose between the Champion and his study-buddy. He noticed that as she studied, at times her eyes would stop moving and stare blankly at the page. Occasionally they would move, but it was as if she were deep in thought and not focusing on anything in front of her. This happened once or twice to begin with, every other time they were together. Viktor figured that she was just processing something that she was reading, and ignored it. Her losses of focus gradually became more frequent and lasted longer as time went on. Two more weeks passed before he finally got fed up.

They were sitting in their usual spot in the library. It was a quiet night because there weren't a lot of others studying or doing homework that night. The lamps were turned down in most parts of the giant room due to the lack of people using them. The effect was one of solitude, and Viktor used that to his advantage.

Hermione had been reading for twenty minutes when it happened again: her eyes stopped moving across the words and she stared at the page, not comprehending anything. She was apparently deep in thought; so deep that she bit her lower lip and didn't even realize it. Viktor watched her for a minute. When she didn't respond to him leaning in closer, he spoke.

"Herm-own-ninny, is somezing wrong? You haff not been concentrating like you haff been before."

Her head popped up in surprise. She let go of her bottom lip and turned to him, her eyes focused again.

"Hmm?"

She noticed how close he was to her and fought the urge to move back in surprise.

"I said, you haff not been focusing like before. Is somezing wrong?"

Hermione was genuinely confused. Not focusing? What was he talking about?

…oh, right. She had been thinking about Fleur and herself. More specifically, Fleur and herself kissing. It was a recurring daydream she kept having, made better only because the dream was more like a memory. A really good memory that they'd hopefully repeat tonight outside on the grounds…

"Herm-own-ninny?"

"Huh?"

"You were doing it again. Not focusing. Is somezing wrong? You want I should do something to help?"

"Oh, no, Viktor, I was just thinking."

"About what, Herm-own-ninny?" He was honestly curious about what was distracting her so much.

She fought the blush trying to creep its way onto her face. "Nothing, just thinking." It proved too strong for her. She felt the heat in her cheeks and was embarrassed by it, which made her blush even more.

"I think that you haff been thinking about somezing, Herm-own-ninny. Why will you not tell me? Or is it about me, and that is why you will not say?" He leaned closer still, but laughter danced in his eyes. He was joking, but only a little.

"Viktor, I was only-no, it wasn't about you." She laughed, glad to be joking with him. He didn't really joke all that much, so every so often when he did, she tried to enjoy it.

Hermione was once again suddenly aware of how close he was. She could smell his cologne. It smelled faintly like ginger and several spices. She inhaled deeply, enjoying its scent. With the lights down as low as they were, and their closeness, thoughts of her and Fleur pushed to the back of her mind. Viktor was first and foremost in her thoughts now.

She found herself gazing into Viktor's still laughing eyes and couldn't help but smile. Their solitude made her forget everything else. He leaned in closer still, and it didn't even occur to her to stop him. His lips met hers, and she closed her eyes. They stayed like this for several seconds before Viktor pulled away, smiling wide. She found herself returning the smile, happily lost in the moment with him.

Then she remembered Fleur. Her impossibly blue eyes, her lovely blonde hair, her wonderful laugh and the time they spent together all came flooding into the front of Hermione's mind. She felt terrible, not to mention awful and guilty. The smile left her still-tingling lips and she got up abruptly, gathering her things.

Shame at what she had done made tears form in her eyes. Viktor was confused by her sudden change in heart, and started asking what was wrong. She couldn't talk for fear of allowing her tears to fall. She managed a choked 'Goodbye' as she fled the library, leaving him there scratching his head, more confused than before.

Hermione allowed the tears to fall over once she had safely run into the Gryffindor common room, which was mercifully empty save a couple of first and second years and Harry. She ran crying into his arms, trying to explain what had just happened, but she was talking too fast and her words all ran together through her tears. The younger students left through the portrait hole, not wanting to witness her breakdown.

Harry was baffled as to what his friend was crying about, but he did his best to comfort her. She finally calmed down enough so that when he asked what was wrong, she answered somewhat intelligibly.

"Viktor and I…we kissed," she managed in between deep breaths.

Harry was truly surprised by this. He thought it had something to do with Fleur, just not anything like this.

"You mean he forced himself on you?"

His question made her sob, and a fresh wave of tears hit her. She shook her head, unable to answer.

"Then…you kissed him?" That really didn't make sense, but it was a possibility.

"No. It was…it was mutual. But when it happened…all thoughts of her just flew out of my head. I don't know what I was thinking."

Harry kept comforting her, though he was at a loss of words for her situation. Just how would she get through this? He had no idea.

What killed Hermione the most as she cried in Harry's arms was that she felt terrible for kissing Viktor willingly, and Fleur had no idea. She had no idea how she would face her girlfriend in the morning, or even at all after this. It felt like her heart was breaking, and it was all her fault.

* * *

AN: 'Tis done. The block is (somewhat) gone. Let me know what you think/feel, guys. Oh, and sorry for the wait. Hope it was worth it.


	12. Off

AN: I know, I know. It's been forever. Sort of. Forgiveness?

* * *

By the time Hermione managed to suppress her guilt enough to fall into a fitful sleep, it was two in the morning. The curtains were drawn around her bed and she had placed a silencing charm on them so the others would think she was sleeping soundly. Before the uneasy oblivion claimed her mind, she had laid in bed, fully awake and dressed, tears pouring down her cheeks until there weren't any more to be shed.

She awoke from her slumber an hour later, drenched in sweat. She could feel herself burning. When she put her hand to her mouth in an attempt to keep her dinner down as she raced to the bathroom, her skin was icy to the touch.

She made it just in time to the toilet before her stomach let loose. Mercifully, she had managed to pull her hair back far enough for it to be out of harms way.

When there was nothing more to expel from her stomach, she collapsed onto the floor, coughing and gasping for air. In a far corner of her mind, she vaguely heard herself think: _You feel so guilty you've made yourself sick._

_I deserve it, _was the reply.

She flushed the toilet and cleaned herself up, unable to think about anything but tomorrow. She went back to bed, dreading the thought of the coming day.

----

Fleur went to class that day, believing everything to be normal. When she got to Charms, however, the seat across the room from her was empty. This was unusual; Hermione was the one who always got to class before Fleur did. She fought the small bit of unease in her stomach, telling herself that her girlfriend was simply running late.

When class started minutes later, Hermione still had not shown up. Her uneasiness grew. This time she reasoned that she was held up by a teacher somewhere, asking a question or something equally trivial. Any minute now, she'll walk through the door…

But the door never opened. Hermione never came to class.

Claire noticed her friend's distress and followed her gaze across the room to the empty seat. She scribbled something on a piece of parchment and passed it to Fleur.

It read: _I'm sure she's fine. She'll probably be at lunch-you can see her then._

Fleur wrote back_: You're probably right. I'm sure it's nothing._

Her words betrayed how she felt. When class was finally over she raced out, eager to get to the Great Hall so she could quench the unrest taking hold in her stomach.

Outside the Hall she slowed, catching her breath. It was silly, really. There was no reason for her to be worried over Hermione's not being in class. But Fleur couldn't help but worry. She waited, though it was an acute form of torture, for Claire to come. She needed emotional support for this; she didn't know why. She saw Claire coming down the stairs slowly. She stood, watching, feeling the seconds go by as though they were each a separate eternity separating her and Hermione. Then Claire was standing next to her, looking at her worriedly.

"Ready?" Claire asked, noting Fleur's obvious anxiety. She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. Opening her eyes, she nodded.

Together they walked into the Great Hall. Both sets of eyes scanned the Gryffindor table. Fleur turned away first, fighting the turmoil inside her. She wasn't there, either. Head held high, she continued walking to the Ravenclaw table, where she sat next to a group of other Beauxbatons girls. Claire followed.

Fleur forced herself to take an active part in the conversation. She knew most of the girls she sat with, as they were all in the same grade level. Claire sat silently, reacting but never really contributing. She watched Fleur, concerned for her friend. When the other girls had to leave for class, it left Fleur and Claire alone.

Fleur quieted immediately, suddenly very interested in playing with her lunch. She kept her back to the other tables. She never touched her food, other than to move it around lamely with her fork. Claire knew that something was making the blonde uneasy about today-she just didn't know what or how to help handle it.

"Fleur…" she began.

"_Oui_?" was the curt reply.

"I know something's wrong. What is it?" She leaned in, eyes conveying her concern.

"I…_Je ne sais pas._ But somezing _is _wrong today, I just know it. She is not 'ere, and she should be. It just feels wrong. I do not like it." Fleur was having trouble with her words, as though there were none for the emotions she was feeling. Claire's heart hurt for her friend. She looked around, and came to a decision.

"Come. I just saw that 'arry Potter and the red'ead walk by. Maybe they will know where she is." She took hold of Fleur's elbow and physically lifted her, dragging her along the aisle between the tables. Fleur didn't fight, and eventually she passed Claire in her attempt to get to the boys.

They caught up to them in the courtyard. There were several other groups of students hanging around.

"'arry, may I ask you somezing?" Fleur asked, having stopped them to talk.

Ron stood there, gaping at the two girls, as Harry looked between them, unsure. "Um, yeah, I guess so."

"Good." She pulled him away from Ron, leaving Claire with him. He continued to gaze after Fleur. This was just as well, since Claire wasn't really thrilled with having to be stuck with him while their friends chatted.

To anyone else in the courtyard, it would look like the two Champions were discussing something about the Tournament; why else would the two be talking? Fleur looked around nervously, afraid of being overheard. Harry looked around also, more confused than anything else.

"'arry, 'ave you seen 'ermione today? She was not in Charms class, and I'm worried." The look in her eyes was enough to confirm that she was telling the truth.

Suddenly the night before popped into Harry's head: Hermione rushing into the common room, followed by the confession of what she had done. His thoughts showed on his face, as Fleur asked, "What's wrong?"

"Hm?" He shook his head to clear it. "Oh, nothing. No, I haven't seen her today. I thought she was with you?"

She bit her lower lip, looking around again. She was very anxious now, more so than before. Harry was debating telling her what had happened, but decided against it. This wasn't his fight, nor was it his place to be telling secrets. Though it didn't seem like Hermione to avoid this…

"Maybe she's in the common room. Ron and I were just heading up; you can come too, if you like."

She looked at him, a little less worry on her face. "_Oui, merci."_ Harry started to move away, back towards Ron and Claire. Fleur had a sudden thought. "'arry-You know?"

He turned back, eyebrows raised. "Know?…Oh, yes. I know."

She moved closer to him, whispering, "And you are okay wiz zis?"

He looked a little uncomfortable, but said, "Yeah, its alright."

She smiled softly, resisting the urge to hug him. She stepped back and said, "Lead ze way."

The four set off for the Gryffindor common room. Harry led the way, with Fleur and Claire in the middle, and Ron rounding off the back. He was still speechless, though he had managed to stop drooling. At the portrait, Harry whispered the password and he and Ron went inside. Fleur and Claire waited in the corridor, for any of the three to come back out, though of course Fleur hoped for Hermione.

Fleur paced. The minutes ticked by and no one came out of the portrait hole. Claire watched her make a circle over and over again. It was starting to get on her nerves when the portrait swung aside. Fleur stopped and turned, hope written plainly on her features. Her face fell when she saw that it was only Harry.

He looked at her apologetically and said, "She isn't feeling well. She can't come see you right now."

A look of relief swept across her face, followed by determination. "Zen I will just go and see 'er." She stepped forward and made to get past Harry. He put his arm across the closed portrait.

He looked even sorrier as he explained, "I really don't think she wants to see you now." When he realized how bad that sounded, he added, "Besides, non-Gryffindors aren't allowed in the common room."

Fleur looked puzzled and hurt. "Why wouldn't she want to see me?"

Harry thought quickly, "Um, because she doesn't want to get you sick. She'll be fine tomorrow, she said. Ron and I will take her to Madame Pomfrey."

Fleur looked from Claire, who had a skeptical look on her face, and back to Harry. "Zen I will 'elp you take 'er."

Harry looked uncomfortable again. "Er, no, that's alright. We've got her."

Claire didn't like the look of this. Something was definitely off. She hated having to say, "Fleur, we've got to go. Our class starts in two minutes." She needed to get Fleur out of there, now. The feeling of something big being off pressed itself down onto Claire's shoulders.

The blonde turned to her, disbelief on her face. How could Claire think of class when Hermione was sick? But, she conceded, her friend was right. She turned back to Harry. "We 'ave to go. Please, tell 'er to feel better. From me."

He nodded. "I will."

The girls left, and he returned to the common room. Harry truly felt sorry for Fleur. It was obvious she cared very much for Hermione. He just wasn't sure how she'd react once she found out…

Hermione was wrapped in a blanket on one of the couches in the common room, a book in her lap. She was pale. She had a fever, but her skin was still icy to the touch. She looked up at him as he entered. Ron had gone up to the dormitories, leaving the two of them alone.

"What did she say?" Her voice wasn't as strong as it should've been.

"She said 'Feel better.' And she meant it." He sat in one of the chairs next to her.

Hermione's head flopped onto the pillow underneath her head. "Oh Harry, what am I going to do?" she moaned.

He looked around the common room, thinking. Nothing came to him. "I have no idea, Hermione."

----

Fleur went to class, the panic somewhat abated. Hermione was sick; that was all. Still, she couldn't help feeling a little…uneasy. The way Harry was acting didn't seem normal. Admittedly, she didn't know him very well, but it still seemed odd. She tried her best to focus, and to not worry about the growing sense of wrongness in her world…

* * *

Reviews help kill the writers block... -cough- But seriously, let me know what you think.


	13. A Trip to Hogsmeade

AN: Hey, it's been a while. Any and all rotten fruit may be aimed at this thing known as "life." Thanks for beta-ing go out to Yoshiyuki Ly.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the storyline, which even then is just a twist on a pre-existing one. Cheers.

* * *

The Frenchwoman was sitting in the middle of the courtyard with Claire and a group of friends, talking and enjoying the sunshine. She was smiling and having fun with her friends. The nagging feeling of something being off still tried to plague her insides, but she fought it off with the sun and good company. One of the girls was telling the story of how she and her boyfriend had pulled a prank on one of the other students when Harry and Ron came strolling through the courtyard, talking. Fleur was instantly aware of them, as well as the fact that Hermione was not with them. She laughed when appropriate at the story, but her focus was almost entirely on the two boys walking past. At the story's end, she excused herself and casually strolled off in the same direction they had left the courtyard in. They were turning a corner when she caught sight of them. Her pace sped up considerably, and as she reached the corner they were out of sight. She looked around, exasperated. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned. Claire was coming after her.

She seriously debated continuing her search for the guys, but decided to wait for Claire. As her friend caught up, she began to move forward again, her mind intent on finding the query of her search. Claire on her heels, she came up to a split in the hall. She had her choice of going right or left. In a second she chose to go left, towards the Great Hall. Their heels clicked hard on the stone floor and reverberated against the walls, echoing in their wake. A look of hard determination had set itself upon Fleur's features; other students walking the halls unconsciously stepped aside in respect, awe, or fear as she passed. The two rounded the final corner and entered the Great Hall.

Fleur spotted a flash of red seated at the Gryffindor table, and next to it a short mess of dark hair. She started forward, certain that she had found Harry and Ron. As she got closer, however, she realized that she had found one of the two twins and another Gryffindor boy. This was rare, since the twins were rarely separated. Deflated, she stopped and turned on her heel, almost bumping into Claire in the process.

"She's not here. Neither are her friends."

They made their way out of the Great Hall at the same pace, Fleur's thoughts still swirling at a dangerous pace. As they nearly stormed their way out of the Hall, Fleur bumped into someone else, knocking them over. She kept going, moving forward in her search for Hermione. It didn't even register in her mind that she had done so, her thoughts were so loud and commanding in their rage.

"Excuse me...!"

Fleur stopped and spun on her heel, eyes wide. She knew that voice. She'd know it anywhere, sick or not. She rushed to the fallen person, apologies in both French and English coming quickly out of her mouth, slurring together. Fleur motioned Claire aside so she could better help Hermione to her feet herself. When both were standing upright, Fleur held Hermione's hands in hers. She looked her girlfriend up and down, taking in her now disheveled appearance. She was still pale, but there was some color fighting to be seen on her cheeks. Her eyes weren't as bright as normal, and as Fleur looked into them, Hermione averted her gaze.

"Please don't look at me now, I look dreadful."

Fleur was about to take Hermione in her arms and whisper reassurances in her ear to make her feel better. Claire saw this and cleared her throat, reminding Fleur in French that they were in public yet...she let their hands drop reluctantly. Fleur moved so that they were in the shadow of the nearby stairway, giving them a little amount of privacy. Claire stayed a respectful distance away, keeping a lookout position while the girls talked.

"Are you feeling better, _ma chere?_"

Her girlfriend nodded. "A little, thanks. When I get some food into me I'm sure I'll be much better."

Fleur looked with concern at Hermione, with a little hope mixed in. "Good enough for a trip into 'ogsmeade later, I 'ope?" A hopeful smile was on her face, lighting up the small corner for Hermione. She couldn't help but smile in return, feeling worse inside for lying to this beautiful girl.

"I think so. We'll see."

Fleur looked around cautiously. Noise in the hall had alerted her to a group of first years walked past, talking. They seemed not to notice the girls in the shadows who had no reason to be together. When the hall was clear, she wrapped her arms around Hermione gently. "Zen get some food into you, and if you're up to going, you can meet me ze Zhree Broomsticks." She rubbed her back comfortingly for a moment before letting the girl go. Hermione smiled up at her, then moved past her into the Great Hall. Fleur watched her go with Claire, a look of sadness in her eyes for how Hermione was feeling.

Hermione had the same sadness in her eyes, but hers was due to the fact that she couldn't believe that she was lying to her caring friend by not telling her the truth. She doubted she could eat anything at all, much less keep it down.

* * *

The sun still shone brilliantly down upon the combined student body as it made its way around the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. A never-ending flow of bodies came in and out of the local sweetshop, Honeydukes. Some went further down the road to gaze at the Shrieking Shack, the scene of horror for the Golden Trio of Hogwarts in their last year. Still others just sat around the village, talking and having a good time. Groups of black-cloaked students were interspersed with small groups of blue-clad Frenchwomen, and still more groups of Bulgarian men broke through the crowd.

One Frenchwoman in particular sat in the middle of the village on a haystack. She would glance distatefully down at her seat everytime she shifted her position; otherwise her eyes were glued to the crowds mixing about her in search of a certain brunette English girl. There were several close calls when she thought she saw her friend, but everytime so far had proven not to be her. She was about to give up hope and accept that Hermione was simply still too sick to come down when she saw a flash of wavy brunette hair makes its way towards her. Their eyes met and Hermione's motioned back the way she had come. That way led to a secluded area in the trees. She veered her course and went that way

Two minutes later, Fleur got up and followed her, oblivious to the lack of certainty and nervousness held within those eyes.

Two minutes after that, Hermione was wrapped up in her arms.

Her color had returned more, and she looked a lot healthier. Fleur gazed at her up close now. While her face looked better, the shine in her eyes was still rather...lackluster. A breeze blew past them and swirled their hair about them, secluding them farther from the village whose sounds were now rather distant. She let Hermione go and took her hands, leading her to a large rock worn down by the elements and other couples who'd snuck away for a private moment. They sat and talked about everything and nothing; of school, teachers, and homework; of the Tournament, the next Task of which was a week away. Throughout the conversation Fleur watched Hermione's eyes. They stayed in hers for the most part, but it seemed that whenever talk of Durmstrang students or, in particular, Viktor came up, she would look away and pale slightly. This was really rather odd, and she decided to bring it up.

"'ermione, is somezing wrong?" Hermoine's eyes widened and she shook her head. "You're not still sick, are you? Oh, maybe we should go back to the castle." She stood, moving to take Hermione with her. "You need to rest..."

Fleur tugged at her hands- she was still sitting. Hermione fought with her, her eyes shut. She was shaking her head gently so as not to bring on a headache. Her mouth was twisted into a grimace. Fleur kneeled in front of her, unsure as to what was wrong. "'ermione, what...?"

She opened her big brown eyes and looked shamefully into Fleur's clear blues. "Fleur, I...I can't..." She couldn't finish her sentence.

"You can't...what, 'ermione?" She squeezed the hands held in hers. "What can't you do? Get up? I can go get someone to-"

"I can't do this to you." She stood, knocking Fleur off balance. She fell less than gracefully onto her butt, turning as Hermione walked past her. "No- you care too much. I-I can't. Fleur, I don't deserve you. I did something terrible. Awful. Dreadful." She was pacing now. Fleur was utterly bewildered.

"'ermione, just tell me. No matter what you did, I'm sure it's not so bad, we can work through-" she tried to reason with her girlfriend.

"I kissed Viktor."

Hermione stopped where she was and turned her tear-filled eyes to Fleur. She was gazing surprisedly up at her, unable to form any words. Finally: "You...how?" Coherent thought was lost to her at the moment. Every possible negative emotion seemed to be in her at once, both incessant and unimportant. They flowed through her with every beat of her heart.

Hermione recounted the events of that night, ending up kneeling next to Fleur, tears running silently down her cheeks. Fleur took it all in quietly, not moving a muscle except to blink and occasionally swallow. At the end of the tale they just sat there, the cheerful sound of the birds echoing hollowly in their ears, an inappropriate soundtrack to their situation. Fleur finally got up, looking at Hermione but not meeting her gaze. It seemed to the brunette that she was looking through her, but with what emotion she had no idea.

"I..I do not know 'ow I feel about zis." Her eyes met and held Hermione's for a moment. Then she slowly turned and walked away, back towards Hogsmeade. Hermione watched her go in painful sadness. When Fleur's form had all but left her sight, she gathered enough energy to sit up and shout

"Fleur!"

But Fleur didn't turn. Hermione was left alone in the secluded area, the cheerful sound of the birds' singing piercing her ears.


	14. The Third TaskFinal

Here's the final chapter- it's pretty long. It hasn't been beta'd either, so please excuse any mistakes. Thanks for following this, and look out for my next Fleurmione fic, hopefully out soon. Peace.

* * *

The sun shone brilliantly through the windows of the classroom as Professor Flitwick continued covering the proper way to cast a Chameleous charm. Some students were paying attention, but most were gazing longingly outside at the warm spring day, the first one of the season. Two of these were paying attention simply to keep them from staring at the person directly across from them.

The attraction pulling at them to look across the room was strong; it burned their insides to mush. They had to fight the urge with almost all their strength. _I'm mad at her_, Fleur had to continually remind herself. She knew it wasn't Hermione's fault Viktor was a lumbering tower of idiot who wouldn't take no for an answer, was it?

_No._

Then why am I pretending to still be mad at her?

_I don't know_.

And while it froze her on the inside, Hermione knew that she deserved whatever punishment Fleur decided to give her. They hadn't spoken for a whole week. It killed Hermione to watch Fleur scorn her from afar, but she earned that scorn.

The Third Task was in a few days. Shortly after that, the year would be over and Fleur would depart for France. They had to talk before then, they just _had_ to.

But Hermione couldn't bring herself to be the one to break the silence.

---

The few short days passed in a quick span of eternity. Not a single word was said between the two witches. In her Champions tent, Fleur put on her gear slowly. The Third Task was always the deadliest, Madame had said. If she had anything important to say to anyone before she potentially died, she should have said it before this last day. Unfortunately, the person she had the most to say to was avoiding her like the plague.

The Champions were called to the center of the ring made near the four entrances to the hedge maze. Harry, Cedric, and Viktor were all there, dressed and ready to go like she was. Harry's wand was gripped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles shone white in the fading light of the day. Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff stood behind their respective students as the officials went over last-minute details pertaining to the task.

Fleur was half-listening; her eyes scanned the crowd nervously for Hermione. Her eyes caught a flash of red and her heart leapt; Hermione was sitting next to that little bit of red. Fleur's heart fell when she saw that her eyes were looking everywhere but at her: the sky, the crowd, the maze, the other Champions; _everywhere but her_.

The four were wished good luck and sent to their respective entrances. As she looked inside the dusky gloom in front of her and the mist swirled menacingly, the enormity of her situation punched her hard in the gut, almost physically knocking her backwards. Sounds swirled into her head in a rush: the chanting of her French classmates as they danced along in rhythm to the music, the rowdy shouts ringing clearly from the Durmstrang section, the Hogwarts band blaring out a bouncy tune to keep the mood light and somewhat cheerful. The world seemed to come into a sharper focus now; colors were more vivid. She turned her head away from the gloomy haze in front of her and found Hermione in the crowd.

She was looking at her. Their eyes met and held.

The world around them melted away into nothingness as they just looked at each other, memorizing every minute detail about the other silently. Icy blue eyes bore into endlessly warm hazels. An apology passed between the two, but before it could be accepted the cannon shot rang in the air. The world returned noisily as cheering erupted around the circle. Fleur turned and entered the maze, not daring to look back.

---

The excitement died down quickly after the Champions disappeared into the maze. The crowd had no way of monitoring their progress; all anybody could do was sit and wait for red or green sparks to shoot up from somewhere in the gloom. The professors all sat down with their students, talking quietly or just sitting there waiting. Most of the assembled students were chatting with their friends, bored with the lack of activity in the circle below them. Malfoy could be heard loudly praising Krum while simultaneously mocking Harry.

Hermione's anxiety in the stands increased with each passing second. Her eyes darted back and forth steadily over the top of the hedges, hoping to catch any glimpse she could of a blast of magic, or preferably, a flash of blonde hair. Her search yielded nothing. Her heart began to pulse faster and faster within her, increasing her anxiety. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Try as she might, she couldn't make it go away. It gnawed at her, burning and twisting her normally-confident self into a ball of uncertainty.

Totally unaware of his best friend's growing unease, Ron was talking to Dean about next year's Quidditch team and whether or not he had a shot at making it. Ginny, sitting between her brother and Hermione, realized how quiet the latter was being when she heard a quiet whimper coming from behind her. She turned and watched as a small drop of moisture ran from her friend's eye down her cheek.

"Hermione?"

A hand raced up and wiped the offending tear away as she turned her face away, not saying anything. Hazel eyes scanned the distance for any sign of something, anything. They were once again rewarded with nothing but quiet.

"Hermione, what's wrong? If you're worried about Harry I'm sure he's…"

She had stopped listening. Of course Ginny would assume it was Harry she was getting upset about, not Fleur. Never Fleur. Why should she be upset over some snooty French girl who never spared anyone that didn't belong on the runway a second glance? _Because Fleur wasn't like that_.

Fleur was kind. Fleur was gentle. Fleur was funny, graceful, beautiful wonderful amazing down-to-earth perfect smart imperfect insecure self-conscious human-

Because Fleur was Fleur-

-and, Hermione realized with a start, because she loved her.

Her realization was met with a flare of red sparks from the right side of the maze. The crowd responded immediately, suddenly interested in something other than their friends around them. Officials sprang into action within moments of the flare being seen-they took off in the direction of the sparks. Many stood up to watch.

Her stomach burning fiercer than before, Hermione waited with growing dread until figures reappeared from the maze carrying a body between them. An excited murmur ran through the stands, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

_Fleur- its Fleur-Fleur…_

"Fleur!"

The sight of her limp head being set gently onto the ground by Professor McGonagall sent her racing from her seat down to the grassy area below. Ginny, surprised and confused by her friend's sudden movements, got up and ran after her.

The teachers surrounding Fleur tried to keep Hermione at bay while Madame Pomfrey looked her over. Professor McGonagall had the best grip on her, her lips pursed in a frown.

"Miss Granger, I know this is a very upsetting situation, but-"Hermione struggled ferociously against her, making her wince, "please try and control yourself."

Tears ran freely down her face now. Fleur wasn't moving. The dim light made it hard to see if she was even breathing. Madame Pomfrey was mouthing the words to healing spells as Hermione looked on. She slowly stopped struggling against the teachers holding her. Ginny came up and placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"Hermione, it's okay. I mean, I know you and Fleur were close, but…" she trailed off, uncertain of what to say next.

A dry laugh escaped her lips. "Close? Ginny…" Her head hung low on her chest. She raised it fully now, eyes open wide, and looked only at Fleur. "I love her, Ginny."

The redhead behind her was silent, absorbing this information slowly. Ron had come down and joined them now, but he didn't hear the confession. McGonagall heard it and pretended not to have; it wasn't her place to say anything now.

Madame Pomfrey stood now, wiping her hands on her skirt. She looked tired; sweat was making her brow slick. "She'll be fine, lucky thing. Just a scrape or two now, nothing major; I've taken care of the worst of it. Looks like one of the shrub traps got her and one of the others was gentleman enough to rescue her before she was taken completely." She spoke quietly to those assembled close. A smaller version of Fleur materialized under the arm of Madame Maxime and stood there quietly, staring at her older sister. Gabrielle suddenly looked years older than she was.

The words "taken completely" resonated in Hermione's mind. So she _had_ come close to losing Fleur that night to the Tournament. With the hold on her lessened, she moved quickly to kneel at her side, taking in the damage. Madame Pomfrey had taken away most of the injuries like she said; there was still a small cut on her right temple and a bruise snaked down from just under her chin to disappear into the collar of her shirt. Those were the only visible marks on her otherwise perfect body; Hermione silently thanked whatever gods there were.

The crowd quieted down again once the action was over. After a few minutes the faraway sounds of fighting could be heard. Suspicious excitement ran through the crowd of students again, but when no more sparks shot into the sky the quiet resumed.

Hermione was content now that Fleur was safely back with her. The teachers moved away to give them some small amount of privacy at the order of Dumbledore, but they remained close in case of some sudden turn for the worse. Hermione didn't notice; she was too glad to be holding Fleur's smooth pale cheek in her hand to care. Gabrielle stood to the side, watching silently. An odd look adorned her face, a mix of uncertainty and disapproval.

_She looks so serene_, Hermione thought. Her expression was smooth as glass, despite the smudges of dirt on her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes were shut and she looked like she was asleep. A soft smile tug at the corner of her lips as she gazed down at her girlfriend.

Icy blue eyes fluttered open, hazy at first but focusing on the lovely face floating above. A smile mirroring the other came to her face. It was quickly replaced with a pained wince as her head reminded her what had happened earlier that evening.

"Hi."

"Hey."

One of the teachers noticed that Fleur was awake and informed the others. Flurries of questions were directed at her, which she answered as best as she could. The story was: she had been walking through the maze when Viktor appeared around a corner, his eyes glowing with an inhuman light. He attacked and paralyzed her, and he would have killed her if one of the other two hadn't come and distracted him. It was like he was possessed, she said. But one of the hedges began to take a hold of her with its roots and branches, pulling her under. Her rescuer took up her wand and sent the sparks up after freeing her from the vegetation. Then he took off, not wanting to be the one removed from the Task.

With her story sorted out, she and Hermione were allowed to stand off together until the Task was complete. An hour passed between her waking and the next round of excitement. They had been talking and Hermione knew that she had to tell Fleur how she felt.

"Fleur, there's something I've got to tell you."

Fleur was tired, and it showed in her weary smile. But she was focused solely on Hermione now. "What is it, dear?"

"Fleur, I…I-" The sudden appearance of Harry with the trophy in one hand and Cedric's newly dead body in the other cut her short as screams erupted around them.

The rest of the night was a blur for the two of them. So much happened so quickly that it was hard for anyone to be sure of what actually occurred. Harry disappeared with Professor Mooney, only to be found out later as Barty Crouch, Jr. Voldemort was back, Harry said, and he killed Cedric. It was a dark day indeed, and not even Fleur's smile could brighten it for anyone, even Hermione.

---

The ceremony for Cedric was a somber affair. Everyone attended, wearing their finest black dress robes and mournful expressions. Even Malfoy was behaving himself for once. After the speeches were made and the tears were shed in his honor, it was time for the visiting schools to pack for the taking of their leave the following day. Many were sad; they had made friends throughout the year and didn't want to say goodbye.

It was especially hard for new couples to part ways. Hermione and Fleur spent every possible moment together once Fleur's packing was done. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Claire gave them their much-needed privacy. Gabrielle, who would normally have been clinging to Fleur now, stayed away from them.

Finally it was time to say goodbye. The throng of Hogwarts students lined the outside walkways, saying their goodbyes to their new Durmstrang and Beauxbatons friends. Fleur and Hermione found a quiet, secluded corner and were talking quietly about future plans for the summer and beyond. Hermione had been fighting with herself to say what she had meant to the night of the Third Task, and knew that it was now or never.

During a lull in the conversation, "Fleur, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

She had Fleur's total and undivided attention. Somehow she felt that Fleur knew what was coming. "_Oui, ma chere_?"

Hermione averted her eyes, looking everywhere but at Fleur while she gathered the courage to say what she had to. The clock tower began to strike noon elsewhere on the school grounds, signaling the loading of the Beauxbatons carriage for departure. Fleur was looking off in the distance when Hermione finally looked at her again.

"Fleur…" Something in her voice made Fleur turn, a soft look in her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered.

Arms enfolded one another.

"I love you, too" she whispered back softly in her ear.

They parted, walking hand in hand quietly towards the group of students. Nothing more needed to be said between them now; the warmth of the other's hand in theirs said enough. In minutes the warmth would be gone from their hands, placed instead in a special area at the bottom of the heart reserved for things that cannot be expressed with simple words.


End file.
